!-'i"i" ttt'.s'ss^arTT*^. 'I9><j;&ti 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

Chap. ; Copyright No.. 

Shelf!.-..!.?? /^9- 
■ /Sff 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 





^B|P^'"? ' ^^-^^-l/v-i}--- .^-'w- 




TIRctrical /IRusinds 



BY- 



G. r. RINEHAm , 



NEWTON, IOWA. 



>^^EB. 



Being a collcclioii of songs, good, bad and indifferent, plucked 
from passing moods. 



^ ^> y~ ' r ->) ^"^! «^ 



HERflLD PRESS 



I6b9. 



-/^,.^1 



26833 



DEDICATION. 

To my wife and children, who have 

unconsciously furnished much of 

the inspiration for these 

lines. 

TWO COP li -^ 



( 



'■■J i- ■'■'^V. '"^^^ 



',( FE^O 1899 



Copyright 1899, 

— BY — 

G. F. RINKHART, Newton. Iowa. 







^. "'-'' 



^T^TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTr^T^rrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT-^ 



A POET'S WOOING. 



t The modern bard, unworthy of his trust, 
t Will not, I fear, inspired assistance get, 

►: For he has trailed the magic lyre in dust . 
I And left the Muse of Music in a pet; 

t The rusty strings will yet remain. to rust 
t Until Apollo sends another set, 

^ And Pegasus, enfeebled, has resigned, 

t An old, rheumatic creature, stifiE and blind. 

I So there is little use in my inviting 

I The Muse invoked by bards in olden time, 

i To counsel and assist me in inditing 

I A story that I long to tell in rhyme, 

I Nor ask her to accompany my writing 

t With that inspiring melody sublime 

t Which wafted ojice from her neglected lyre 

^ And kindled latent genius into fire. 

i 'Tis evident, that, writing of a poet. 

t The verse is best, for clumsy prose encumbers; 

t My hero was a bard, — I'd have you know it 

I Thus early in the tale; — his boyish slumbers 

t And waking moments all combined to show it, 

I For night and day he dreamed in rythmic numbers, 

t And built his airy castles full as vain 

E As frost had painted on the window-pane. 






TTTT-TTTTTTTTTTT ^ TTTTTT TTTTTT-rrTTTTTTTTT-irTTTTTT . TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTT-^ 

And then, again, the welcome innovation 3 

Of verse within a field of clammy prose, ^ 

A happy turn should add to the relation, 3 

For verses have what prose cannot enclose, — 3 

A certain charm, a magical elation ^ 

That every lover of the poet knows ^ 

And feelSj as through his head are ringing ^ 

The music notes the bard is gently singing. ^ 



^ I will not lead you to Italian skies 

;: Where blood is ever at the fever heat, 

K And where the maidens, with consenting sighs, 

p Surrender hearts that all too warmly beat; 

t Instead, I shall avoid where danger lies, 

^ • And seek the quiet of a country seat 

I Where purity is always nearly par 

p And people seem to be just what they are. 

t Nor shall I add suggestions to my story 

I That form of modern tales so large a part, 

^ Nor follow rules considered mandatory 

t: That shroud in gloom a pure and tender heart, 

t The realistic tale so old and hoary 

^ That aims a blow at the ideal in art; 

t On reading which we feel ourselves misused, 

t Our finer sensibilities abused. 



t It often happens in secluded bowers, ^ 

t Which authors weave into their modern tales, ^ 

t Where lovers hie to spend the passing hours 3 

I When nothing else so charmingly avails, ^ 

I That, there among the opiate breathing flowers, 3 

t The maiden's coldness youth no more bewails; : 

t These authors make the sweetest flower hurt you ^ 

f In painting perfume as the foe of virtue. ^ 

I :i 

t ^ 

t ^ 

t 3 



rTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTtTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT-^ 



Nor shall I, as my plot already laid is, 
Portray the castles and the knights of old; 

Nor introduce the blase lords and ladies 
That tenanted these palaces so cold; 

Nor e'en the youth to fortune born, that paid his 
Accustomed tax to folly to enfold 

A titled mistress, legalized by marriage 

Where love is nothing but a chance miscarriage. 



^ The world is weary of such sickly stories ^ 

t Of love that kindles at the siren's call; :3 

I Of love that quickens in conservatories, ^ 

I In marbled palace and in pictured hall, ^ 

t In gilded yachts or fine, upholstered dories, — ^ 

I Of love, in fact, that is no love at all; ^ 

E Of passion that at best is but pollution, ^ 

t For love, like wine, permits of no dilution. ^ 

t So, knowing this, I shall proceed to tell ^ 

I Of that which more concerns the human heart ^ 

t Than those conventionalities so well ^ 

I Portrayed and well sustained in modern art; ^ 

p And go with you where loving bosoms swell, 3 

E Where Cupid, only, wings the magic dart, :3 

P And sing to you of wooing youth and maid ^ 

C: Whom modesty in love had made afraid. q 

i Ben Bowman passed his youth upon a farm ^ 

i Where nature gives the soul its best repose, h 

t Where even solitude enshrines a charm ^ 

E The titled monarch never feels and knows; 3 

t Where there is but so little that can harm ^ 

I And where deception never thrives and grows ^ 

t And twines itself about the heart so sly ^ 

t And leaves its victim but a living lie. 3 



Li.l.i.Xjl.i,i_i.Ai.i.iAAAAJ.i.li^XJ,Ai.li.i.lAilAAii-li-».i.Ai.Ai«-i.A-i-l^i-A^i.AAi.i.li.XlXijaj 



FTTTTTTTTT 'TtTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT»rTTTT»T 



■TTTITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTI 



His was, perhaps, an unpropitious station, 
With nought to boast in either blood or birth; 

No famous name among his past relation, — 
In fact his famil}' records showed a dearth 

Of those who had, through chance or education, 
Left something that was tangible to earth, 

Although there were perhaps some six or seven 

Who laid a few fond treasures up in heaven. 

His father did his planting when the moon 
Shone with a light propitious on the soil. 

Nor would he wean a calf a day too soon. 
Because to him the zodiac was Ho vie; 

Hostetter's works were always thought a boon 
And ruled unchallenged in the realm of toil; 

His butchering was moon-timed to a dot 

To keep the meat from shrinking in the pot. 

The old rail fence was also lunar laid 

To keep the worm rail from untimely rot. 

And sometimes building had to be delayed 
Though all materials were on the spot, 

Because, in shingling, he w^as sore afraid. 
Though all was ready, that the moon was not. 

And that the shingles when the roof was done. 

Would curl and twist beneath the sultry sun. 

And thus to kill a hog or drive a tack. 
Or plant a tree or even gather hops. 

There never was of signs a single lack; 
And, if he wanted but a dish of chops, • 

He must consult the yellow almanac; 
To plant or reap the necessary crops 

He alwa3^s had a sign, — a moonlit plan 

Extracted from the disembowelled man. 



LA-i.J.i.i_l.Ai-i.i.Al.XAAJ 



rTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTl 



Surroundings such as these can hardly be ^ 

Encouraging to one who strives to rise ij 

Above the drudgery of life, where he h 

Has nought above him but the vaulted skies, ^ 

And where, with fancy chainless, full and free, :3 

He measures all the deep immensities, ^ 

Absorbing what kind nature has designed ^ 

To lift, inspire and vivify the mind. ' :5 

No fortune had this moonshine farmer hoarded; :3 

And thus the son grew up inured to toil ^ 

And lived alone on what the farm afforded,-^ ^ 

The recompense to labor from the soil, h 

Until he went to city schools and boarded ^ 

Where burnished silver was the leading spoil ^ 

And where he found provisions dietetic 1 

Too exquisitely dainty and esthetic. 3 



By this this you may infer that country feeding 

Consorted better with his appetite; 
And that the city fare, like country breeding, 

Was much too simple for a coarse delight; 
And, as I do not wish to be misleading, 

Admit your chance conjecture is quite right, 
For no one has a surer way of knowing 
The row Ben Bowman won his laurels hoeing. 

When through the city schools, his just ambition 
Was centered in a more exhaustive course. 

That might, with comprehensive expedition, 
Be compassed in a year or two perforce; 

But, owing to exchequor in depletion, 

Although he might have fared a great deal worse, 

He was permitted, in his search for knowledge, 

A vear of strict economv at college. 



k.l.Ai^kX xl^l-iAlli 



Lll>AlJkAl.lAl.i-ii.lJLlAi.AAi.li-iAlAAA< 



Ll^lAXAiaiiill 



rTTrTT''"TTTTTTTTTTT TTTTTTTTTTTl TTT T T T T TTTT T TTT T TT T TTTTl TTTTTTTTTTTT T T T T T T T T T T T T TTT T TTTTTTT'^ 

I t 

t 6 3 

p Returning, he at once engaged in teaching, :3 

r A calling that allowed but little rest ^ 

I And leisure time for dreams, which, over-reaching 3 

i The dull monotonies, give life a zest, 3 

t And prove, despite the world's prosaic preaching, ^ 

^ That fairy idealities are best, 3 

E The ne plus ultra of all cherished goals ' ^ 

t That bards have peopled with congenial souls. . ^ 



I But, after all, the body must be fed, ^ 

^ To nurture which the soul remains on earth ^ 

t To struggle in the daily race for bread; ^ 

t And, where it must surrender from its birth, ^ 

I To appetite, the creatures of the head, I 

t Thus oftentimes, the child of boundless worth, ^ 

K Whatever be its genius and intent, 3 

I Is harnessed by its cold environment. • ^ 

^ Ben BowTnan found this galling, to be sure, ^ 

A deadly stroke at his sublime ideal; ^ 

But never would he let the Muse allure 3 

His thoughts from things more tangible and real, ^ 

For circumstance required that he immure 3 

His kindling fancy, though hekeenh^ feel, 3 

As only poets feel, the struggling strife 3 

^ That strains and racks imprisoned souls for life. ^ 

t Thus far he was quite free from love affairs ^ 

I For one susceptible as poets seem^ 3 

f And, held in check by clinging daily cares, ^ 

I He had, at most, but little time to dream; ^ 

I But what a poet has he always shares, 4 

t With one diluted milk, another cream, 1 
And it is no disparagement to say 



^ That he had often pledged his heart awa3\ :J 



'■AAAAi.lAAiAi^i.i.l_l.l^li.iAi^AAi^iAl.Ai.AiiJ.AXAAAi^iAXAlAAi_l.l.illlAi.^AiAi.AAi.AlliJllAAAXAiAAi.i_i_U^ 



FTYTTT 



TTf TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT 



L 



I When once yon know a. poet's genial heart ^ 

r Wherein the fire of love is ever burning, A 

*^ And where forever Cupid's pleasing art :j 

i Is nurtured by a'nature?always yearning, ^ 

t You then will best appreciate the mart ^ 

I To which there flock a thousand maids discerning ^ 

t And where a dozen pledges, less or more, :? 

t Cannot deplete the o'er abundant store. ^ 

t It chanced, that when in this inviting mood, ^ 

i Ben Bowman met and loved a kindred flame 4 

t Who seemed to him to be the angel food ^ 

t That put all other soul-food into shame; ^ 

I Whichever way the bard the maiden viewed^ — . :5 

t Though no one more prosaic could he name, h 

I She seemed divine, — a lovely incarnation ^ 

t Of all that well could merit adulation. ■ 3 

I . ^ 

t Maude Mason was as pure and chaste a miss ^ 

t As ever was encased in breathing clay, i 

^ And never did the virgin breezes kiss q 

; Diviner features than upon the day ' ^ 

': They rested on her dimpled cheeks in bliss ^ 

: And with a wealth of perfume stole away ^ 

: To charm and soothe and awe the poet's soul :3 

' And touch his heart and make it clean and whole. i 

t i 

I I said that she was pure, that she was chaste; 3 

t I mean by this a woman's highest praise, ^ 

t For no diviner virtues ever graced 3 

h Maturing womanhood, and none can raise 3 

t To grander heights the reckless, wanton waste ^ 

i Of sunken manhood to the better ways ^ 

t Of righteousness, sobriety and truth; 3 

^ None charm the child or more inspire the youth. ^ 



AAAi.XAiiai.Ai.illli.AAli^i^ll.l.llAXllli-^Ajai^AAAiAAAii^i.Ai^i^AlAll^Ai.lJaii^i^lliAllli^U^ 



There is a beauty in the grand, old ocean 

When calm and still, or rolling mountain high; 

There is a beauty in its gliding motion. 

And when it seems to leap and touch the sky; 

It stirs the human heart to deep emotion 

To stand and dream where breakers ever sigh, 

And, viewing that sublime, majestic waste, 

Recall the thousand hopes it has efifaced. 

There is a beauty in the constant sun 

That woos to bud and bloom a wealth of flowers, 

And speeds the breeze to gather one by one 

The truant clouds to freshen them with showers 

Of pearls that steal away where brooklets run 
Through fair}^ glens and perfume-laden bowers. 

Through meadows rare, across the fertile lea 

To meet at last and mingle with the sea. 

These is a beauty in the star-lit night 

When nature softens to a hush and sleep; 

There's beauty in the moon's reflected light 
Again reflected in the placid deep; 

There's beauty on the snow-clad m3untain height 
W^here high-born clouds commune and coldly weep, 

Where hoary winter holds a sway eternal 

And dawns of splendor greet a scene supernal. 

There is a beauty in the northern sky 

W^here sweet Aurora greets the god of day 

On polar seas, to vanish with a sigh 

When godlike splendor drives the maid away; 

There is a beauty in the flowers that vie 

With rainbow-hues born of the sun and spray; 

And there is wond'rous beauty where there roves 

The ocean fauna through the coral groves. 



t 



rTTTTTTTtTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTirrrrrTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTtTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT.TTTT^ 



i: But after all, when all is seen and said, h 

I When all external beauties are portrayed ^ 

I With all the skill of every genius dead ^ 

i And all in glowing color is arrayed ^ 

t And all in harmony together wed,— ^ 

t We find the net result to pale and fade h 

t Compared with Chastity's transcendent beauty ^ 

t That makes respect to womanhood a duty. ^ 

t -* 

t So thought my poet hero, for he had 1 

I Seen something of this coldly wicked world; ;; 

E And though he had not been a sinful lad, ^ 

i Had been where decency her banner furled; ^ 

I Where souls were all surrendered to the bad 3 

t And where he saw each worthy virtue hurled ^ 

t Like some uncherished, broken toy away ^ 

t When it no longer seemed to please or pay. 3 



Such knowledge has but one of two results; 

A nature weak is overwhelmed thereby; 
The stronger one religiously consults 

The moral sense, that knows where dangers lie. 
Then, that which seemed attractive but insults; 

The man who weeps at seeing virtues die 
Will leave the dens of vice in deep disgust 
At all the vain and vicious wiles of lusL. 

Ben Bowman kept his morals undefiled 

Through all this dread experience of youth, 

Avoiding all, although by all beguiled; 

It all impressed him with the steadfast truth 

That chastity, howe'er it be reviled 

By those who have surrendered it forsooth. 

Is, after all, a woman's greatest charm 

Its loss, the chief, if not her onlv harm. 



kAli.lAAiiAAa^ii-Ai-41Alllt^AAAlAl^iillJUlAlJ 



rTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT-»TTT 



: He learned to look on woman with suspicion q 

P Through memories he never could efface, ^ 

^ And diagnose, as would the true physician, 1 

t Conditions that were mirrored in her face; 3 

t But now he found a maid where intuition ^ 

I Could read the modesty of every grace, ^ 

t And see in every charming feature fair ^ 

t The purity that found a lodgement there. ^ 

t : 

I The maiden had a classic education ^ 
I And then, besides, she had a classic mind , : 

t With high ideals, to which no elevation : 

^ Was ever pitched too high to be divined; ^ 

^ My hero thought the fullest consummation ^ 

t Of all his future hopes was here confined :3 

^ And compassed in a maid whose love and lore I 

^ Consorted well with all he could adore. 3 

I I said he thought this; but such thoughts are cold • 3 

t And such is not a poet's way of thinking; :3 

^ His thoughts are cast within a warmer mould ^ 

I Where calculation into love keeps sinking; ^ 

t He simply loved, and, like a chain of gold, :: 

^ These sober after thoughts came linking 3 

^ His love to his ideal, for both were free, — ; 

t She numbered twenty years, he twenty -three. A 



l His vain presumption had almost undone her. 



t He mentally exclaimed when first he met her, : 

h "There is my wife!" — b}^ far too much on credit; ^ 

^ He wished that it were so, though he knev/ better, ^ 

^ But then it was his poet heart that said it; 1 

^ He thought she caught his thought, he tried to let her, 3 

f: And afterward his fertile fanc}' fed it 3 

Until at last, in thinking he had won her 



'•^■^•'••^AAiAJ.AJ.Aii^ii.AiiiiJ.ij.i.Ai^iX-l.l.AiAAU.iAULAAiJLAlll.ii.lAiil.iAAA^i.i.i.i.i.lXAA 



'TnTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTT^TTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTrTTrTTTTTTI 



I It happened that (and this is melancholy) ^ 

t When once he paid a visit to his flame, ^ 

► He found her even more than ever. jolly, 1 

I Impaling on the wall ( O what a shame h 

I It was not mistletoe!) a sprig of holly, ^ 

t At variance in import as in name; :3 

^ She greeted him by smiling o'er her shoulder ^ 

l Which banished diffidence and made him bolder. q 

t I 

i with both her arms engaged, he stole behind her, ^ 

^ For love had prompted him to steal a kiss; ^ 

I Although he could not do an act unkinder, ^ 

I He caught in quick embrace the charming miss, 3 

t And, ere she was aware, a chance reminder ^ 

^ That many maids would never take amiss, ^ 

t Was planted on the fervid lips inviting ^ 

I That he had long reproved himself for slighting. ^ 

H Now who would carp at kissing, when a maiden ^ 

I As charming as a peri seems to dare it? ^ 

i And who would dare refuse lips nectar-laden ^ 

t A kiss, when they are so designed to wear it? ^ 

I And who, indeed, declines to visit Aiden :; 

I And taste of bliss with someone else to share it? . : 

[ Kind reader, ask yourself, and, — well I know it, — ^ 

t You can't blame any man, much less a poet. ^ 

I The best intentions often pass for treason, : 

i^ And good intentions pave the streets of — well, : 

f It often happens for no worthy reason q 

f That reason is suspended for a spell; i 

I And once forbidden fruit, when out of season, ^ 

^ So tempted father Adam that he fell 3 

t As did our hero, who with good intention H 

I Had caused a rumpus of no small dimension. : 



l^i^l^Li ii.li.iii.i. Ai 11 J 



LlAi^li.i.Xli.AAlii-l^ii-l.i-ii-4-i.i.i.i.Aii.i-i-ii-i-i^i 



r TTTT TTTT TTTT TTT TTTT TTTTTTTTT YTT 1 "1 



She turned, and, like a frenzied Fury seeming, 
Her throbbing bosom in her anger heaving, 

Her dark and kistrous eyes with insult gleaming 
Through facial features, where, the color leaving 

Revealed the startled bard how far from dreaming 
Were all the stern realities of thieving; 

And from her livid lips, the soul's detective. 

She poured a tireless torrent of invective. 

Ben felt a nameless horror thrilling through him 
When her insulted majesty arraigned, 

And all the charges clung the closer to him 
The more the injured maiden had complained; 

And yet it seemed the more she would beshrew him 
The more he loved the maiden he had pained, 

And would repeat again the operation 

And offer her his heart-felt consolation. 

But when he found at last his halting tongue. 
That Shakespeare called the lawyer of the heart. 

Or rather "heart's attorney," when were sung 
The songs that comprehend all poet's art. 

By all the nieans that in the past have wrung 
Forgiveness for a hapless Cupid's dart. 

He plead his cause before this injured Fury 

Who, in this case, was both the judge and jurv. 

He begged, that though she did not give consent, 
That in behalf of mercy lie had erred 

And that her undue anger should relent 

And all that stood between them be interred; 

But, after all his arguments were spent 
He found that he had wasted every word 

Of his most meek and penitent relation 

To win forgiveness and commiseration. 



Li.^lAi_i AA Al 1 li 1 A-iia l_i.AA AA J 



^■'•aAAAIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA^AAAAAAjJ 



r~TTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTyTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT-rTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT^ 

t A 

t 13 3 



Long, long he argued there-his good intention ^ 

Reviewing the pathology of kisses, ^ 

And other specious pleas I need not mention ^ 

And technicalities the juror misses A 

Who is himself a party in contention; A 

As "bliss" the only other rhyme for this is, ^ 

I scorn to use it and will say instead A 

He may as well have pleaded to the dead. A 

When cyclones have passed over all is still, A 

But wreck and ruin still remain behind; A 

And, when the maid had tortured to her fdl A 

She would not say a word, — which was unkind, ^ 

For, when a woman's mute, plead as you will. ^ 
Whate'er you say will never change her mind; ' ^ 

Besides, when ignorant of her true feeling ^ 

You may enlarge the breach you're bent on healing. ^ 

But all things have an end, — and then my tale; :; 

And so at last her anger had an end, A 

For tliing.5 which will not break will hardly fail :3 

With pressure strong enough, at least to bend; A 

And like a ship that's weathered one fierce gale, ^ 

The bard put all to rights, and with the trend ^ 

Of favoring winds and tides, his course pursued, ^ 

But never after was he quite so rude. ^ 

A woman's virtue is her donjon keep, ^ 

And taken only when the truant lips, A 

Her sentinels, are caught at last asleep, — 3 

Intoxicated by the blissful sips A 

That all-confiding love has drunk too deep; 3 

But, erring once, the rocky fortress tips ^ 

And totters, 'til the whole in ruin hurled- ^ 

Forever lies there open to the world. ^ 



k^Xi.X±LXJ.Xi^XXi^lAlkl.XXAl^kJUlki.^XA.Xi.i.Xi^k^L±i.l~i^i^i^i-X±±lXXJ^X£Xjili^l.i.>.X±i^L^ 



FTTTTTTTTTTTT TTTT T TTTT TTTT T TTrTTTTTTTT T T T rTT TTTTT TTTTl TT^TTTTfTrT T TTT TTTTt TTTTTTTTTTTTTTT^ 

I 14 I 



^ Give me the maiden' that without defection i 

t ' Guards well the lips that hold her virgin keys; :} 

p That keeps her surging passion in subjection ^ 

i And too impulsive lovers on their knees, ^ 

k Denying all, lest there be some infection ^ 

I That lurks behind the most resistless pleas; 3 

i For, should her heart with love grow much too tender ^ 

t It means intoxication and surrender. t 

t Ben Bowman, though he had been much dejected ^ 

t: When his impulsive love-embrace miscarried ^ 

t And e'en his kiss was scornfully rejected ^ 

^ . (From past experience so widely varied) I 

t The more, if possible, the maid respected; ; 

r He knew. that long ago he might have married ^ 

^ Had one of three or four been more resistant 3 

p And with his high ideal the more consistent. 3 

t With all his past experience he knew : 

^ The mighty power of presence and persuasion ^ 

^ And that at best the maidens were too few ^ 

t Who would resent a kiss on such occasion ; ^ 

^ And from it all this wise conclusion drew :3 

I In which he made no single reservation, ^ 

t That she was just the one to make of life ^ 

t A paradise for him who called her "wife." 3 



1^ And so he lived alone w^hen she was near, :i 

^ And when she was away became dejected; ^ 

t And soon she had become to him so dear :j 

K That every other creature was neglected; ^ 

i: He suffered all the time the haunting fear ' 3 

t That somehow, sometime she might be defected, : 

^ And thinking thus, and dreaming thus about her, ^ 



He vowed that he would never live without her. ^ 



^.i^AAAii.a.i.AA^X^i_4.i_i.li.iAULl^l_l.A.AAXAAl.iAlA.l^Al-Li_».J 



Li-ii.AAAAi.AAAi.iijaAiAAi.ii_iAAAAAiiAXi_i.j 



f:'»^TTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTT7TTTTTTTT^TTTTTTTTrTTTrTTTTTTTT1 



15 



rTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT TTTTTTTT ^ 



t The ship of love has weathered through the years i 

I The calm and storm, the tempest and the gale; rj 

: Has floated through the sorrpw-seas of tears ^ 

t And witli porpiLious winds has spread a sail; ^ 

: Has swept with speed when time was in arrears 3 

t And drifted on, when naught would else avail, ^ 

I Where tempests lashed and threat' ning billows roared ^ 

I And yet the Cupid captain shouts "Aboard!" I 

t Where love ordains, no marriage is a crime- 3 

^ -1 

t It makes of matrimony that divine ^ 

t Relationship, in every laud and clime, ^ 

I More sacred and more holy and benign ; 1, 

I Than mere convenience for a given tinie; — ^ 

I An idle toy that either can resign; ^ 

t An obligation that as soon as spoken 3 

I Needs only a surrender to be broken. q 

>- -i 

t For wedlock is a sacred institution, ^ . 

I A soul communion of the heart with heart, 3 

f: To wdiich no court can offer restitution 3 

P* Because it is of nature, not of art; 3 

t A bond that cannot suffer dissolution 3 

E 'Til death alone, its sacred segments part; ^ 

P Then damned be he who ever dare disparage 3 

:: The pure, unsullied sanctity of marriage. - 3 

t 1 

i Than woman, tliere was never creature grander, — : 

^ The greatest gift to man through all the years, ^ 

I Who grows more charming as you understand her I 

t And lovable alike in smiles or tears; :3 

t And, though to her we men must often pander ^ 

^ She pays us by each charm that e'er endears : 

t And when we sink below our w^onted station ^ 

p 'Tis she alone who offers us salvation. q 



L 



A-tAA-i-iAi^i.li.Jii.Ai.Ai.li^XAii.l.AlAllili.i.Xi.i-lJ^i.i.i.JlAlAii.Aa.llJ.iaAAAil»liXa.AJ.i^iJ.AlXlilli_i^l^i^j 



^TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTl TTTTTTTTTTTTT'tTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT 



i6 



When siininier came and outings were in st3'le, 
The lovers sought the Rooky's cooling shade 

Where mountain sat on mountain, pile on pile, 
The highest peaks in clouds of snow arrayed; 

Where lovers might in joy abide awhile; 
Where nature's masterpieces are displa^'ed; 

Where air and water give to life a zest. 

And where to slumber always means to rest. 

They stood upon the summit of Pike's Peak, — 
Ben Bowman and Maud Mason there alone, 

In love enthralled, too charmed and awed to speak 
Surmounting that grand monument of stone 

Compared to which man seems so poor and weak, — 
A Kipling's "rag, a hank of hair, a bone;" 

And, while the sun beamed kindly from above. 

They stood there in that solitude in love. 

Below them lay the everlasting hills; 

Above them the eternity of space, — 
That deep and vast immensity which thrills; 

Below, the panorama of the race, 
Where man does what he must, not what he wills; 

Where each but seeks until he finds his place. 
Fore^ver struggling, all on winning bent. 
The many selfish and the few content 

Far down below, the pine tree nods and waves, 

Inplanted in the firm, eternal rock 
Wherein are traced those won'drous mountain caves, 

Upheaved and rent in some volcanic shock. 
Where miser nature ever hoards and saves 

Her crystal wealth of stalactites that mock 
The stalagmites which crystallize the tears 
That weeping time has shed throughout the years. 






rTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT-TTTTTTTTITTTTTTTTTTTTT^TTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT^TTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT^ 



I 17 

^ They saw, below, the path required to scale 

^ That rocky fortress of enduring stone; 

r So much like life it seemed, — an up-hill trail 

I Which each must thread, so selfishly, alone; 

^ Where far too few succeed, too man}- fail, 

t And where each cheer is answered by a groan; 

I Where those who blindly follow erring guides 

t Can never reach the height where fame abides. 

t 

t They saw the snake-like railroad wind and creep 

t Through tunnels long and dark and canons grand ; 

^ The}^ saw it, vaulting upward, climb the steep 

t Where genius would grow dizzy and unmanned; 

t And then again they saw it overleap 

^ The chasin, where cataracts, by rainbows spanned, 

t Convey the greeting of the virgin snow 

t To waiting prairie flowers in meads below. 

I They viewed the "Snowy Range" where serried peaks 

t Reflected all the glories of the sun, — 

^ Each pinnacle a sentinel who speaks 

I Of an eternity while time shall run, 

t Of hidden wealth awaiting him who seeks, 

I Where even Monte Cristo is outdone; 

I Of Cripple Creek, by mountain streamlets fed, 

t Which nestled snugly in its golden bed. 

I They looked on classic lakes where melting snows 

I Have poured their flood of tears into the deeps 

t From which a lucent, leaping streamlet flows 

I Through rock}- ways, and grandly overleaps 

^ The cataract's restraining walls, and goes 

t To whisper gently where the maiden reaps 

►^ A harvest of the choicest summer flowers 

t In perfumed glens and fairy woodland bowers. 



iit^l.Xi^XAi.AA.ki.A^li.A.±AUiJjLlXA.iX^lXi^LXJtl^i^XX.XlXX±^ 



:? 



TTTTTTTTT 



t 



XTrrf TTTT TTTTTTTTTTTTT H TTTTt TTTTTT T T TTTT.TTT T T T T T TTT T T T tTTTTTTTT'^ 



i8 



TO MINNEHAHA. 



r- They stood there in that grandeur unexcelled, ^ 

^ At peace with all the world, above its strife; :3 

t- All earthly thoughts and actions were dispelled, 3 

I Infinity had entered in their life; ^ 

l She leaned upon his shoulder, while he held 3 

E Her hand in his and whispered, "Be my wife," 3 

I And silently she raised her head in bliss ^ 

t And gave the bard her answer in a kiss, :; 

t . ^ 



I Old Nokomis' wddowed daughter, :j 

t . r> > ^ 

r Wilt thou speak to nie? 1 

^ Minnehaha, weeping water, :3 

P I would learn of thee; . 3 

I Tell nie of thy Hiawatha— 3 

I Of thy loved one^Minnehaha, ^ 

t- And the peace th}? love, 3 

^ Be it truth or be it fiction, 1 

;: Brought so like a benediction :; 

t From the gods above. 3 



Tell to me thy magic story, ^ 

How throughout" the years ^ 

Thou sustainest youth and glory • ^ 

Dazzling through thy tears; 1, 

Tears for thy lost Hiawatha ^ 

Well become thee, Minnehaha, :! 

Well become the bride — ^ 

vSainted bride and widowed daughter, ^ 

Mirrored in the weeping water ^ 

Since thy laughter died. 3 



.i.AAlAXJ.OaXXi^ll.li.XXAAi^XAliXi.liAlAAAAi-l.Xj.XAll.l.l^iAAAAA.lAAlAXilXAiil.lJ 



rrYTTTTTtTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTrTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT-T 



l 19 

^ Wander where the vine is creeping 

t And the willows climb, 

l Never cease thou in thy weeping 

I 'Til the end of time; 

t Time can give to age its wrinkle, 

t But it cannot dim the twinkle 

^ IvOve lights in the eve; 

t Love makes sanctity of sorrow, 

[- Love abides today, tomorrow, 

H Love can never die 



ROBERT BURNS. 



I There is within the human heart :; 

I A soulfulness that yearns 3 

t For that sublime and pleasing art ^ 

t Which culminates in Burns; ^ 

I And so today the world will pay ^ 

I The tribute it discerns • ^ 

t Is justlv due the poet true, :J 

P Congenial Robert Burns. ^ 

^ Well may the Scot reflect with pride 3 

I Upon his native land, ^ 

p For fame has published far and wide ^ 

I Achievements great and grand ; 3 

^ She may display a proud array h 

t Of patriots brave and strong, ^ 

t But none there be so grand as he ^ 

i Who conquers with his song. ^ 

t _ ^ 

^ His verse is musical, though sad, 3 

t Or merrv be its chime, ^ 



LAAAja ii.iAi ii.i.i.J AA Ai.Ai.i.i 



lAiAAAAAi_i.AAAi.iAi.iAi.AllAAAAAi.ll.. 



LAAAlAAlAllllllli 



f TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT'* 
3 



And man and wife and lass and lad 

Are better for his rhyme; 
And all the years throngh smiles and tears 

His songs and simple art, 
Will be endeared and more revered. 

Because they reach the heart. 

With tenderness almost divine, 

His simple, loving strains 
Will wield a potency benign 

As long as true love reigns; 
And so for aye this honored da}^, 

Till time at last adjourns, 
Is set apart to soulful art 

And charming Robert Burns. 
January 25, 1895. 



THE FUTURE. 

There's a sweet little fair}- that sings in my ear 

Of the future — the glorious future, 
When woman will fill a far different sphere, 

In the future — the unshackled future; 
And she sings of a time in the sweet bye and bye, 
When a glad hallelujah will mount to the sky. 
Proclaiming the freedom of lowly and high 

From the thralldom of fad in the future. 

It is sometimes pathetic the song that she sings 
Of the future- the heart-breaking future; 

When woman will banish all loud, gaudy things 
In the future — the unfeeling future; 

When dress will be made on the order of sense, 



^AiJiAXAAA^A^.kAAllAiliAA^iAi^i_iiAiAi«AlliiAl^i_tliilll.JAAililiiiAAAl.AlA^^i 



rTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT T TTTTTTTT T T T T TTl T T TTTTTTTTTTTTT T T T TT T TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT T T TT TTTTTTT^ 



t 21 

t To increase convenience and lessen expense, 

t And fashion and folly and ignorance dense 

i Will all be nnknown in the future. 



Then again she will sing in a jollier vein ^ 

Of the future — the happier future; ^ 

When marriage will not be a contract for gain, ^ 

In the future — the franchising future; ^ 

But woman will be the full equal of man 3 

And marry for love — if she luckily can — 3 

And the unmarried all will be under the ban ^ 

In the sweet, blissful state of the future. ^ 



t 1 

I DRESS REFORM. I 



It is feared that sometime woman, H 

Through conventional duress, :3 

Will burst in manly splendor \ 

In a bifurcated dress; 3 

And the thought provokes amazement ^ 

And chagrin to lordly man, ^ 

Who usurps as much prerogative ^ 

As selfish beings can. h 

'Tis a sad humiliation, ^ 

Men reluctantly confess, \ 

That Eve, and likewise Adam, ^ 

Wore abbreviated dress — ^ 

Cut and made in such a fashion 3 

That it could no modiste vex, ^ 

And no fad, nor whim, nor passion, 3 

Made the garb describe the sex. -^ 

:3 



^i^LLk^kki.ii.ki.kiAkLLkkL%^LXkLkLkk.ki.kkkXi,kkX^kkkk^k^i,kkXXkA.LXkkki.k<i.kkXki.U.LXkLi.i.i.k.i. 



liiiij 



rTTTTTTtTTTT TTTTTTTTTTTI ' 



rTTTTTTTT-^ 



p The Arab, with his pantaloons, 

^ The Scotchman, with his kilt, 

i^ The Turk, with baggy trousers, 

I Gives our agument a tilt 

t- When we claim that man's pre-emption 

I To the proud domain of pants 

I Is beyond the hope of contest 

t By his sisters and his aunts. 

t But the meanest pill to swallow, 

I And a killing one, I ween, 

E Is that pants were the invention 

t Of a very ancient queen ; 

^ And upon the field of battle 

I There was seen with shield and lance 

K A host of shapely Amazons, 

^' And all arrayed in pants. 



SHALL WOMAN PROPOSE? 



I oft recall how discomposed ^ 

And how perplexed in mind ^ 

I found myself when I proposed ; 

To best of womankind; ^ 

Though happy the reply received ^ 

'Twas awkward what I said, ^ 

And I indeed had been relieved 4 

Had she proposed instead. :; 

So, with this Banquo's ghost in view, :; 

I env}' future man, : 

For then the woman will pursue ^ 



ti-ii-AAi.Ali.^AAi_4.jLAi.iXAAii.li_lii.l^J^AiAi 



.Ai-i^ Ail AAl-iXAXi_l.A lO-iAX^ 



rTYTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT T T T T TTTTTTTTTT T T T T T TTTTTTTT rTTTTTTTTTTTT-^ ■ 

I 3 

: 23 3 

t . A more aggressive plan, :3 

I And ask the man whom she would wed ^ 

i As one of her just dues; q 

I For, has it not been wisely said, :; 

► "The beggar should not choose?" - ^ 

I A maiden can, with charming grace h 

t And artlessness divin.e, ^ 

^ Upon youth's shoulder hide her face 3 

^ And whisper, ''Love, be mine;" 3 

^ O how sublime were such request, 3 

I And how entrancing— ah! ^ 

I To fold her fondly to your breast ^ 

^ And answer her, "Ask pa!" : 



ROOSTING HIGH. 



^ :3 

I There are some who find this life at the best a dismal strife, ^ 

i And, struggling for existence, wonder why 3 

f When the pangs of hunger keen are the sharpest it is seen ^ 

t The fattest turkeys all are roosting high. ^ 

t ' ^ 

\ For at least a week or more all our city's worthy poor \ 

^ Have thought of this Thanksgiving with a sigh; \ 

\ And with plain and scanty fare, in their hovels thin and bare, : 

\ They have wondered why the turkeys roost so high. ^ 

\ If this age is grandly rife with amenities of life h 

l And charity was never born to die — ^ 

\ It is very safe to say it will find a chance today ^ 

t To reach the turkeys roosting awful high. ^ 

\ \ 



Ll.i.i.AAlAllJ.J.ll_i.i.ilXi-ii.AAii.Ai.ll-iA^lAiAl4AAl-i.Al-i.i.ili 



rTTTTTTT t TfTT > > HH '*TTTTTTTtT> > TlTTTTTTT*TT»TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTT^ 

It were worth the cost and more just to glance behind the door^ 
And see the children make the turkey fly — ^ 

Though in quite another, way than a week ago today ^ 

When the creature made his perch so dreadful high. 3 

November, 1895, 3 



WHAT IS GENIUS? 



It is but tact and talent hand in hand, 

The sense to comprehend, the skill to use; 

It pays a mental draft made on demand 
And promptly meets occasion with its dues. 

It is the partnership of thought and toil, 
The true love match of industry and sense; 

The highest product of the air and soil 

Where nature pays to work its recompense. 

'Tis not the pampered child of pomp and power, 
Nor yet the spawn of pedigree and place; 

But all the great requirements of the hour 
It has the born nobility to face. 

It is the off-spring of the frost and sun, 
And, cradled in the forests and the fields. 

It is by many wooed, but seldom won. 

And then to worth and work alone it yields. 

'Tis reared around the fireside of the home, 
And touched to tenderness at sight of flow'rs; 

It is by beauty charmed, and loves to roam 
Where happy music speeds the passing hours. 



klAAAAlA^lAA^lAA^lAlliAA>.kAAA.kAAAlAi»Ali^i-kiAiiAAAAli^lAiliiAAAlAAAAAAiAi.lAAl.A^AAAjl.AAAAA^j 



trrrr^^Trr.TjrrTTrr.yrrjyjrjjrjryrrrrrrrTrrrrrrrTrT^rrjyjrrTrTrTTrrTrrrrTrrrrTTrrTrr.rrr. 



25 

With blood iintraced to poiiipous prince or peer, 
It boasts of no distinction due from birth, 

But, grandly reaching upward year by year, 
Achieves of fame the measure of its worth. 



A WANING ART. 



^ Hushed are the muses of Pope, Burns and Byron, 4 

t Wooed long in vain bv the maiJ^azine bard- ^ 

t Nothing is heard but the wails of a siren, 1 

I Meterless, measureless, motiveless, marred. q 

t Lost is the art of divinely inspiring — t 

I Lost in the night of stupidity dense; ^ 

I Vanished the bard who is worthy admiring, ^ 

^ Vanished the riches of beauty and sense. 3 

t O for a bard with a measure inviting! 3 

I Bard with the grace of simplicity terse; ^ 

t Replacing the boor who is busy inditing ^ 

f Vapid, insipid, ambiguous verse. ^ 

t O for a verse that is pregnant with meaning! : 

t Rhymic, though merry or sad be its chime; 

I O for a verse to sublimity leaning, ^ 

^ Sweetly pathetic and soul-stirring rhvme! : 

t O for a bard with intuitive knowing! ^ 

^ O for a bard who can touch us to tears! 3 

t O for a song from a heart over-flowing! 3 

;: O for a song that will live through the vears! 3 



LAii.ii.lAJ.iaAi.i.Ali.liAi.AAAi.ljaj.i.i.i.ili.lil.iJ.i.XAXail.AililAULllJli.l.Alll.iilli.Xi-la.]! 






' TTTT TTTT TTTTTTT TTT7 TTTTTTTTT TTT 1 TTTTTTTTTTTT TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT TT TTTTT-» 



26 



A PHOTOGRAPH OF HOLMES. 



I love to trace within that face 

Each noble feature errand — 
An open book wherein to look 

Is but to understand; 
There's not a hint of lurking guile 

To mar the glad effect, 
And that paternal, kindly smile 

Wins our deserved respect. 

High in the rank of manly, frank 

And justly honored men, 
"With charming grace he holds a place 

Acquired with modest pen; 
He grandly won his meed of fame 

Because enshrined in him 
Were virtues such as made his name 

True honor's synonym. 

With purest thought he wrote and taught 

In easy flowing verse. 
And not a note in all he wTote 

Could make mankind the worse; 
The w^holesomeness within each line, 

And softened tenderness. 
With potency almost divine 

Will ever charm and bless. 

Within an age considered sage, 

But rife with vain pretense, 
'Tis sweet to find this noble mind, 

So rich in chaste good sense. 



i.^^^AilA^XAkAAXAAlAAAAi.AA^lkAl,^^XAXMiAi.k^ikkAi.AAAiAAkMi.Ai.iAAXAXi^l.Xkmi.i.AA.i.i.±i.i.i.i.Xi.iuLXXXM 



1 



{[TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTfTyTrtTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT 

Which found in plain and simple speech ^ 

A wealth of warp and woof ^ 

To weave a tale and gently teach Z 

A moral or reproof. :3 

3 



CHIEF WAR EAGLE. 



As I stood by the grave of this worm-eaten brave ^ 

I somehow grew pensive and sad; 3 

For there lay a buck who had once run amuck, ^ 

But they gathered him home to his dad — ^ 

To lodge with his lousy old dad. :3 

He's as dead as a stone, and in justice I own 3 

A very good Indian no doubt; ^ 

And there he must lie till old Gabriel on high ^ 

With a deep trumpet blast calls him out — 3 

With a loud trumpet blast calls him out. ^ 

No more to his call will his followers all 3 

Assemble in battle array; ^ 

No more will they dance in a rapturous trance ^ 

O'er victims they caught in the fray — 3 

With scalps they secured in the fray. :: 

Entombed with the dead is his tomahawk dread, ^ 

His scalping knife rusts by his side; 3 

The river runs still while he lies on the hill, ^ 

Nor reckons the course of its tide — ^ 

The requiem groans of its tide. ^ 



lJi^Hi.lXl.i.i.Ai.i.i^XAAkLAkAMAXXXAAlX^XHl.A.lkJkAii.XXX^ALikl.kkkiJilkA.XljLXl^kklli.Al.jL±±XAd 



'TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT-1 TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTt TTt 1 TTTT Ty T T rrTTTrTTT? T T TT T T TTTTTTTTTTT-^ 

28 : 

If true what they say, on awakening day, : 

When e'en the most villainous quakes, ^ 

His string-haltered hops and his tomahawk chops ^ 

Will all be repaid in hot stakes — : 

The devil's own simmering stakes. ^ 

vSioux City, la., July 1895. ^ 



CIRCUS DAY. 



The circus man, who never fails to show^ sometime in May, 
Will always meet a welcome, for he brings a holiday, 

When Maude can dress in white as pure as her sweet soul and fair, 
And I can wear my hand-me-downs without a rip or tear. 

Oft, hand in hand, a loving pair, we've sauntered down the streets, 
I spending money like a prince for chewing gum and sweets. 

And popcorn balls and peanuts and chromatic lemonade, 
As down into the big white tent we followed the parade. 



Vve saw the camel and the bear, the elk and kangaroo. ^ 

The ugly hippopotamus, the llama from Peru, 3 

The lion and the leopard and the tiger and giraffe, .; 

And lingered 'round the monkeys* cage to laugh and laugh and < 

[laugh. 

And then into the circus tent with all the crowd we pressed. 

And perched upon the highest seat and thought it much the best. 

We saw the famous acrobats, the donkey and the clown. 

And stayed to hear the concert played by "artists of renown." 

And when the whole was over, and we stepped into the dark. 
We talked about the circus as we walked along to spark ; 

We loitered by the wayside, for we had so much to say. 

And found the distance much too short, although the longest way. ^ 



kAi.lAi.il^^A 



\.l.Xi.i.i.ii.XXX-LJ,.l.l.A.l^LXlkXXXA^ 



rrYTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTI 



29 



DID YOU EVER GO A WHEELING? 



L 



Then came the hand-squeeze at the gate, and then the goodnight kiss- i 

Repeated Oh! so often, though it never came amiss; -^ 

And when at last, with heart aflame, I saw her break away, 3 

I wished the speedy coming of another circus day, ^ 



I Did you ever go a wheeling wlien the roads were smooth and nice? ^ 

t It is finer sport than hunting — yes, or skating on the ice, ^ 

^ For it's very near to flying as you noiselessly proceed; ^ 

t Simply following the pedals at a trotting horse's speed. ij 

p On the highway sweetly soaring and a gliding through the glade, :3 

^ You are happy in the sunshine and appreciate the shade. :3 

I You can talk about your fishing and your boating on the lake, A 

I But for jolly sport I'm thinking 'cycle riding takes the cake. -^ 

I There is action for the muscles and a breath of country air, rj 

I And a healthy-hued complexion and a symmetry most fair, ^ 

t And a grumpy, sour dyspeptic or a pale consumptive can ^ 

P In but a season's riding feel vitality again. ^ 

^ Did you ever lose your appetite and nothing tasted right? ^ 

I The wheel will bring it back again in majesty and might; ^ 

f And there's not a law to hinder you from eating once your fill 3 

t If you have the cash to liquidate a mighty grocers' bill. ^ 

I There's a happy time a coming when the ladies all can feel ^ 

I At liberty to ride aright the sweet, seductive wheel, ^ 

^ In a neat, convenient garment well adapted in its way 3 

t To give the greatest comfort — and may heaven haste the day. ^ 



AXAl.AiAi^Ai.i.iJllAAAi.ii-l.i-iii.ivlAlAAAlia.AAi^AlllXiAlAiAAAAl^i^llliAt-4Jll-i.llAAi-l.li.i.lli.lAAJLiA-< 



rTTTTTJ 



30 



t Soon the "good roads" agitation will be crystalized to law, A 

I And if we always keep the right the old "road hog" may jaw, 3 

I And although it may be grudgingly, you bet he'll go us halves, : 

: And we'll only have to look out for the dog that nips our calves. H 



THE INTERSTATE FAIR. 



Just o'er the brow of yonder hill 

That greets the beams of rising sun, 

His requiem the river's trill, 

There rests the crumbling bones of one* 

Who led a band of painted braves, 

That sleeps at last in unknown graves — 
It's race is run. 

The Star of Empire westward moved 
And lit these forests, streams and plains, 

Where plucky pioneers since proved 
That by the help of lab'ring swains, 

The dreary waste of long ago 

Can in the blush of plenty glow — 
While Ceres reigns. 

Like specters in the desert wild, 

Great cities upward reared their spires; 

And furnace smoke by thrift beguiled 
Up wafts where once were wigwam fires; 

And through that once dread solitude 

Both smiling peace and plenty brood — 
All man requires. 



^Chief War Ragle, vSioux Citv. la. 



tii-iAAlAlAAiliAAAi.lAAlAJ.AAl.l^ilXAAAAAJ.AAAAi.Ai.AXi^ 



rTYTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTirTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT 



TTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTl 



E 31 

^ The earth, responsive to the plow. 

t Yields recompense to worthy toil; 

► And ev'ry granary and mow 

t Bears evidence of fruitful soil; 

t Where once the hunted bison fed 

^ Now graze the sheep and kine instead — 

t None dare despoil. 

t From all that vast, extensive wealth 

t Of empire, with each pulse in touch, 

I Is gathered here in hues of health 

t A little mite of mighty much; 

^ Mute witnesses, unsworn forsooth, 

^ Who never speak a base untruth 

t We trust in such. 

t Four splendid states join hand in hand, 

I Displaying products rich and rare; 

^ Extending all, from every land, 

I A cordial welcome to our Fair. 

t Where wrong impressions are dispelled 

t By an exhibit unexcelled — 

t If equalled, where? 

t A wealth of sun and air as pure 

t As e'er refreshed the paling cheek; 

I Abundant rain and crops, as sure 

i As those of any land we seek — 

t Why should we not rejoice today 

I While potent plenty wields its sway 

r For one short week? 

t We dedicate these grounds and halls 

I That all our varied fruits adorn 

: To him whose kingdom never falls — 



i.i.i.jLi.AAA.4i-i.-l^li-l.i^i.i.l-ii.i.Aii.i^ii^XJ.i.il.lJ.iliia_i.i.ia.l>lli 



r TTTT Tm TTTT TTT TTTT TTTTTTTTT 7 TTl 1 



32 



t His majesty, the great King Corn, :3 

^ Let us to him our tribute pay, 3 

t And all make merry while we may, ^ 

i And sadness scorn. ^ 

i 3 

t :? 

t ^ :5- 

t :: 

I MY CORN COB PIPE. ^ 



I The joy of ni}- life is my corn cob pipe, ^ 

^ The source of a magic art; 3 

t From its strength supreme and its age full ripe t 

I I have sworn that I must part. -^ 

t ^ 

^ So, my friend, farewell; I have loved thee long, 4 

^ Thou hast been most good to me, :3 

^ And I feel that many an idle song ^ 

t: Is owing, mv pipe, to thee. i 

>- -A 

t Thou hast often banished my weight of care, :3 

t And soothed with a fond caress, :3 

t "* 

^ And though we part, I am ready to swear ^ 

t That I love thee none the less. :3 

I ^ 

t Ere I give thee up I must fill thy bowl, 3 

^ And court my favorite Muse, 4 

^ For I need the cheer of a genial soul ^ 

t Whenever I have the blues. :i 

>- -* 

t I will soar again in those fleecv clouds, :3 

K And build my castles of air, 1 

^ And revel in bliss while the maze enshrouds, ^ 

t Inhaling an incense rare. :3 



i.i^xi.ii.^xAi^>a.i.i.i.iiii.xi^A^i^i^A.Ami.mi.AiXA^xx^i.Aii.iiiiai.ii„u.Ai.u.iv 



rTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT TT TTTTT TTTTT TTTTTTTTTTT TTT TTTTTT TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT r TTTT f 



33 3 

-< 

:J 

So, my pipe, farewell to our plighted troth, 1 

Though it cost me many a tear, :3 

I have sworn and now I must keep my oath, ^ 

For this is the glad New Year. ^ 

Jan. I. 1895. 3 



L 



ARISTOCRACY. 



t ^ 

I We often meet with those who cringe and crawl ^ 

^ Before the base Beelzebub of caste; ^ 

E And fondle, flatter, fete and servile fall - 

► Upon their knees to those who in the past i 

t Debased, debauched and damned themselves for gold 3 

i And ne'er redeemed the sordid souls they sold. ^ 

I We see the snobs of style with sense suppressed < 

^ Who bow to fashion, worshipping a fad; ^ 

t Bright butterflies when draperied and dress' d, ^ 

r But crawling caterpillars when unclad, A 

: In whom there ever uppermost appears :3 

: The clinging chrysalis of early years. j 

: The pomp and pretense of the purse-proud prude, " A 

p With wealth patrician but plebian taste, ^ 

^ Whose dazzling diamonds everywhere protrude, ^ 

E Can but provoke the pity of the chaste ^ 

I And sensibly and womanly who know q 

^ The shallow mockery of vulgar show. ^ 

t Mistaken men embezzle and defraud :3 

w -« 

t To keep themselves within a social sphere h 

t Where glint and glare and glitter, gilt and gaud i 



^l^li.XAAl^i.i.i.iAi.li.i.i.li^i^i.iiXAlAAAli^AliAia.i^llli.AiXi-lllAl^lAi.-ii.»A.li-i-iii-*.i-iAAAAiiJ.i-L^ 



rjTTT 



FTTTTT'TTTT TTTTTTT'TTTt j TTTTTTTTT y TTTTTTrTrTrtrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTtTrTTTtTTTTTTTTTTTW 

4 



34 

May win a glance although it cost a tear, 

And, with their burdened hearts of guilt and guile, 

They ape the spotted siren known as style. 

The}^ all scorn honest Labor, galled and gaunt, 

The tired, troubled tool of trade and toil; 

A wealth of worth, but worn by work and want 

In building hopes that others may despoil, 

Who coin his brain and brawn and blood and bones, 

And feast and fatten on his sighs and groans. 

There's no true aristocracy but worth. 
No proud distinction but deserved success; 
For, at the best, all men are of the earth 
And earthly yet remain howe'er they dress; 
Their characters are certain to appear 
Whatever be their outward garb and gear. 



THE RIVALS. 



I confess, my love, that today I met 

A charming blonde and a sweet brunette 

Who promised their love to me; 
And the eyes of black and the eyes of blue 
Revealed a love that I know is true 

As ever true love can be. 

And somehow, love, by some magic art. 
These maids have wooed and have won my heart, 
Have wooed and have won my love; 



l.i.i.^Aili.AiAAi.AlAiiliAlJ.i.A^i.iJ,lilAj.ii»i,lijLj.li^i.Aij.Ai.Al.Ai^AiAi^LAi.i^AAi.i.i_i.Ai.AAJli.AJ.iXiJ 



rTYTTTTTf T T T T T T T TTTTTTTTTTTTTTT-rTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT T T T T TT T TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTrS 

I \ 

I 35 3 

I The one with the black eyes beaming true, ^ 

^ The other with eyes like the azure blue ^ 

►; Serene in the skies above. ^ 

^ While I love the eyes that are black as jet, ^ 

I And the beautiful, blue-eyed, sweet coquette, h 

t My love is no less for you, ^ 

^ Than in years agone when we lived alone :: 

t And the only black eyes were your own 3 

t And there were no eves of blue. 3 

t Though pledged to me, yet the greatest debt, 3 

I Of the charming blonde and the sweet brunette ^ 

t Is owing, my love, to you, 3 

^ Who will best console in the coming years 1, 

^ When the eyes of black will be filled with tears 3 

t And tears in the eyes of blue. 3 

^ And sometime, love, though the thought is sad, 3 

^ Some lad will come, then another lad A 

\. Will come as I came for you, 3 

V And rob us both of our loves, alack ! ^ 

l The one with the beautiful eyes of black, h 

E The other with eyes of blue. ^ 3 



WAPELLO. 



I ■ Above the Court of Justice stands 

^ A statue that enshrines the fame 

t Of one* who bore through all these lands, 

^ With dignity, a chieftain's name. 

;:"^Chief of the Ottumwas. 

t 



r'TTTTTrTTTTtTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrriTTTTTTTTTTTyTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT^ 



36 



t 
t 
t 

H Could life but animate that frame 



C His tribe all numbered with the dead; 

No braves to answer to his call. 



The din of trade resounds instead. 

But there he stands, a sterling plea 
For justice that he never knew; 

A mute reminder all may see 

Outlined in Heaven's azure blue. 



OPTIMIST AND PESSIMIST. 



t Alone in bronze, his native hue, :J 

p He can be seen for miles around, ^ 

t Forever in his stolid view 3 

i His erstw^hile happy hunting ground. 3 

t A monarch that the hand of fate 3 

^ Was destined to at last depose, :} 

:: Who lived to see his realm of state 3 

t The home and camping-ground of foes. ^ 

^ In war-like attitude is he, ^ 

t Defiance pictured on his trow; ^ 

t He flashes scorn on 3'ou and me ^ 

From eyes reproving even now. ^ 



t What changes would those eyes behold ! ^ 

I A city here, with life aflame, 3 

I Cast wliollv in the civil mold: ^ 

i . ' . 3 

^ The wigwam vanished once for all, H 



The optimist with happy eyes - ^ 

Sees life in rosy hues, ^ 






FTYTTT T T T TTTT TTTT TTTT T T 



t . ^ 

t He has no inelancholv ties ^ 

►- • -< 

r And never has the bhies. ^ 

t ' ^ 

I The pessimist, though seeming cold, ^ 

^ In S3'mpathy is kind, ^ 

t And all the nobler thoughts unfold :} 

J: Within his busy mind. :< 

t^ We need the man who makes us laugh ^ 

t But he is doubl}' grand, rj 

►: Whose sympathy provides a staff ^ 

^ Or lends a helping hand. ^ 

t ■ -3 

^ ^ a 



THE STORM. 



: 


Clouds converge, 


: 


Shadows merge 


: 


Into one; 


: 


Gleaming light 


: 


Cleaves the night 


: 


With its somber shades asunder, 


: 


Then a rumbling peal of thunder 


: 


And the storm. 


[ 


Summer storm, 


: 


Has begun. 


With a gentle pitter-patter 


I 


Down the raindrops fall and batter 


: 


On the roof and leaves and clatter 


I 


Spatter, scatter; 


t 
: 


Scarcely audible at first, 


UlXI.1 


Then downpouring with a burst 


^Ai.AAAli.lAii.lAli.i.i.i-l.iAAi.l.lli.li.liAA^Al-Ai-ii.i.J.i.lA.lii.i-i.-ii-4.i-iAi.liJ 



..4jlAl^AAi^AA.lllXiAAi 



r TTTTTTTT TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT 7 1 



While the wind is weirdly moaning 
And the gale-tossed trees are groaning 

As distressed, 

With unrest. 

Then a frightening 

Flash of lightning 
Fills the soul with very awe, 
And it shudders like the leaves; 
While the rumbling and the rolling 
Of the thunder in its bowling 
Are but meagrely consoling 

To the bosom in its awe, — 
To the bosom as it trembles while it heaves. 

Forms grotesque, 

Picturesque, 

Here and there 

In the night 

Recondite. 
Scarcely seen within the glimmer 
Of the transient lightning's shimmer 

Ere they fade 

Ghostly fade . 
Into air; 
Then the elements contending 
Witli a fury never ending. 
Gather with renewed offending, 

Blending, rending! 
As if warring to the death 
Never pausing for a breath; 
Lo! the storm cloud upward riding 
From the battle ground is gliding 

Wind oppressed 

And distressed; 



^i^X^i.^^.i^i.i.X±kil H it tXli^i.Al.l..k.i^AX-ki.AkAmi.iill.l iiiiliiiililllllli lili liii iiiil^ 



F-rYTTTTTT TTTyTTTTTTTTT 



TT T T TT T TTTTTTTTTT T T T TT T TTTTTTTTT T T T T T TTTTTTTTT? T T T TTT1 



39 



THE FARMER. 



t Thus pursuing ^ 

^ All-iinbruinjj, ^ 

t Cloud and wind and storm are gone :; 

^ And a quiet fills the night; ^ 

I While the raindrops are down-dripping, ^ 

f: From the eaves and tree-tops slipping ;3 

I And the storm is onward skipping, ^ 

^ All the sleepy stars then yawn, ^ 

t All the merrv stars then twinkle in delight. 3 



^ Year in, year out, he woos the soil, 
t Which, welcoming his suit, 

^ Repays by yielding to his toil 
I Its recompense of fruit. 

t His hands are roughened, and his face 
t Is browned by wind and sun; 

^ His health is rich enough to grace 
t The labor he has done. 

t Unused to highly cultured speech 
I And strange to fine address, 

t He yet is well equipped to teach 
F The worth of manliness. 

K. His life is one of honest work, 
F He reaps just what he sows, 

t No obligation does he shirk, 
^ Where duty calls he goes. 



LAliiiiiilliiilllliilillliililliliiiliiliilliliiliiiillil.lilllllllllllllll 



^TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT^TTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTyT^ 

i 

[ 

f His dignity is that of worth, — 

p The pride derived from toil; 

t The peer of those of highest birth, 

l For all are of the soil. 



WOMAN. 



t Could I employ the sacred Muse 

E To sing her highest praise, 

I Or could I but as deftly use 



^ Could I command impressive speech 3 

^ That speech I would conmiand 3 

J: To voice a tribute that would teach 3 

:: So all could understand 3 

y How women has, through all tlie vears, I 

^ In ever}' land and clime :J 

t B}' other means than smiles and tears 3 

p Left some event to time. ^ 

I Were I the Raphael of verse. 3 

^ The Angelo of rhyme, 3 

j: I'd fonn and shape in language terse :j 

t And tell in speech sublime, ^ 

t How like an angel from above '^ 

t Since time its course began 3 

I She wrought her lasting works of love ^ 

l , And ministered to man. 4 



The lyre Apollo plays, 3 

I'd fill the air with paeans grand, :3 

Her virtues to proclaim, -x 

And tell what her inspiring hand ^ 

Has left to deathless fame. :j 

4 



\.Li.l.Xl-Li^H.k 



'■*• ■'-^-i- •*-'■•*-'-*. Ai^ A* li.A^AAi-l.Aj.AAAli.l.Ji AHA A ii.AAi^li.li.1 J 



LAlia.AAAAAll_iAXA^ 



rTTT T T T T T T T T T T T TTTTTTTTTTTTT TTTTT TTTTTTTTT T T T T T T T TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT 



TTTTTTT TTTTT^ 



J; Could I coin words that would enthral ^ 

i And words that would caress :3 

t And words that like a cadence fall ^ 

t ■ To soothe and awe and bless, ^ 

t I then might w^orthy tribute pay ^ 

t To all those women who ^ 

I Deserve a most inspiring lay ^ 

^ For Avhat they did and do. 3 

t Sweet vSinger, lift your charming voice ^ 

I And happiness prolong; :j 

^ Let man in ecstacy rejoice ^ 

^ While women lives in song; ^ 

I Deft Player, touch Apollo's lyre : 

I And cast a potent spell, ^ 

t Pray, summon all your genius' fire ^ 

E And then her virtues tell. ^ 



t vSkilled Painter, snatch prismatic hues ^ 

I And paint for future fame, ^ 

^ An angel for your model choose ^ 

I And paint to win a name; 3 

i Famed Sculptor, shape a marble form :: 

^ That seems to breathe and speak, ^ 

t Inspire with grace that will conform ^ 

I To the ideal vou seek. 3 

I ' , ^ 

^ Blest Bard pour out your soul in rhyme — 3 

t The life's blood of your muse, — ^ 

t No inspiration less sublime ^ 

i Is worth the theme I choose; ^ 

^ But yet the most consummate art ^ 

I Of all your honored line, 3 

t Can only meagerly impart 3 

t A woman's charms divine. ^ 






^TTTTTTT-fT-r^^^.r^.r.^^.rT^-rrTTT1 T TTT T T T TT > t t T T T T T T T T T T T1 T T T T TT T T T T T T t T T T T T T T T T T T T r TTTTTTTTT^ 



I 



THE PRAIRIE DOG. ^ 

3 

He plats a town upon the plain ^ 

And booms it in advance of man ^ 

Withovit a thought of hope of gain 3 

By giving lots to all his clan. ^ 

Erect he stands upon his feet, 3 

Alert with ever watchful eyes; : 

Nor cares he for the county seat, ^ 

Or bonded railroad's coming ties. : 



^ Ambition has no charm for him, — 

^ Proud peer of socialistic clan; 

t No office-seeking fad nor whim 

^ Could make of him an alderman. 

I 

^ Without the selfish greed of men, 

I No fortune does he hoard and save; 

r He lives contented in his den, 

I And dving finds a readv grave. 



t THE .AURORA. 

f I'nabating, scintillating, 

t Effervescing fount of light ! 

[ . So like dreaming seems thy gleaming 

^ To the glad, enraptured sight. 



On the polar seas, where solar 
Light prolongs its ebb and flow. 

How entrancing is thy dancing 
O'er the wastes of ice and snow 



^^■L±l.ili,i 1 i t i i H^i.i^A.A^LXXi 



:3 



t 



rTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT^TTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrr^ 

43 I 

Sudden starting rays are darting ^ 

From the earth to azure bhie, ^ 

Like revolving and dissolving :j 

Panoramas to the view. :3 

Ever changing, re-arranging, ^ 

Never seeming twice the same, ^ 

Upward dashing like the flashing 3 



t Of volcanic fire and flame. ^ 

t ^ 

t Fading, blazing, through amazing ^ 

f Transformation.s in the sky; ^ 

t: Gorgeous crescent, evanescent ^ 

t Burst of beauty born to die ! 3 

t _ 3 

I Brightly beaming, grandly gleaming, ^ 

I Radiant, effulgent light; ^ 

p Greeting morning and adorning ^ 

p All the majesty of night. ^ 



THE SPRITE'S LOVE SONG. 



t Fay so pretty, 

^ Fay so witty, 

t Come and listen to my ditty ! 

I Were my heart as yours so gay 



I covild sing a sweeter lay. 

Come with sprightly 

Step and lightly. 
Let thy presence shining brightly 



t Come with sprighth 

t Step and lightly. 



iiAiJ.i^i.AiJAi.JilJ.XAi_ijL^Al.illAAAi.Aiajai.l„L^i„iXAi^AiAi^ii_ii^i.ijLAi.,4^jajai.l^ 



rTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTrTTTTTTTTTI TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT^ 



44 

Permeate my soul with light 
That without thee is but night. 

E3'es so dreamy. 

Hair so streamy, 
Like the mellow^ moonlight gleamy ! 
Like the ether in its flow 
Radiant and all aglow ! 

Fay so merry, 

Fay so wary, 
On our pinions light and airy 
Let us soar al)ove the sea, 
Let us hover o'er the lea ! 

Come iny fairy. 

Do not tarry. 
Do not be of love so chary 
For my heart has wooed thee long 
In the rhap.sodies of song. 

From the flowers 

In love's bowers, 
Jemmed with jewels from the showers, 
I have woven garlands rare 
P'^it to crown a brow so fair. 

Lightly gliding. 

Cha.sing, hiding, 
Or in happine.ss abiding 
In the sweetly perfumed dells 
As our own caprice impels; 

Ever smiling, 

Care beguiling. 
Through eternity of whiling, 
I a king and you a queen. 
Let us live in love serene! 



k.AJ.lAAlAJ^ULAAX^XAiAAUi.AAAAi^iO.XAAAliAAiJ.AAi^l^XAl.AA^i.Ai.lA 



'•rTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT 



45 



ALL ALONE. 



t In a rich, sequestered grotto ^ 

r 'Mid the perfumed mountain dells ij 

I Where the whispers echo sotto, — 3 

t There a charming fairy dwells, — ^ 

K There a charming little fairy dwells alone. :J 

': ■ . ^ 

t O'er the portals of the palace 1, 

y Of this fairy maiden fair ^ 

B Many a flower from its chalice ^ 

^ Breathes an incense on the air, — ^ 

►- -1 

^ Breathes an incense where this fairy dwells alone. ^ 

I In this palace house of pleasures ^ 

^ Where no evil e'er befalls, ^ 

t Rich and sparkling jeweled treasures ^ 

p Glint and glimmer on the walls, — ^ 

I Glint and glinnner where the fairy dwells alone. : 



^ And beneath this fairy castle ^ 
^ There are buried heaps of gold . ^ 

p Guarded by a dwarfish vassal, :3 

^ Grim and terrible and bold, - : 

^ Guarded b}' a dwarfish vassal all alone. A 

p Though I would not storm her castle, ^ 

p Richer far than any art; 3 

^ And I dare not brave her vassal, ^ 

^ * I am bound to storm her heart, ^ 

t For mv charming fairy must not dwell alone. ^ 



lJ.iAAAjLXlAi^i.i.iiAi.iAAi^i^i^ll.iAAAAi.iAi..i.Ai.ijU-ii.l.il.iAAiAi-i.AXAiaiAlll.ilAAaaiiAlAii.i.li 



FTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTT M Trt > > T 1 TT T TTT T TTTT T T » T T T t T T T T T T T T T T TT TTTTT < 

t :5 

\ MY GRANDFATHER'S GHOST. \ 



I abhor all superstition; ^ 

But, by birth or intuition, ^ 

My brain has long been haunted by a phantom I detest; 3 

And from no mere supposition ^ 

I announce an apparition ^ 

That has- made of my condition but a misery at best. ^ 

When I make this sad admission 3 

I would give my deposition ^ 

That I've neither monomania nor wheels within my head; ^ 

But I hold to the position ^ 

That it is an imposition ^ 

To get a promonition or a visit from the dead. ^ 

It has been my high ambition ^ 

To engage in demolition :3 

Of fallacies and fantasies that throng the human mind; ^ 

And my entire composition 3 

Clamors for the abolition : 

Of the ghosts that make perdition of the life of all mankind.^ 

So with such a disposition ^ 

Bent on such a worthy mission, ^ 

It cannot but be galling to receive among my woes, :: 

In a logical rendition ^ 

A convincing exposition ^ 

And a virtual admission of the doctrine I oppose. 'i 

Never by my own volition . ^ 

Would I welcome repetition, ^ 

Of the visits, nightly visits of my puritanic ghost; 3 



t 4 



t 



rTTTTTTT TTT T T T TTTTTT T T T T TTt TTTTTTTTT T T T TTTT T TTT T TTTTTTTTT T t T TTTTTT T T T T TT T T T TT TTTTT 



47 

Whose career of deep contrition 
Ought to make him an addition 
And a prominent musician in the vast, angelic host, 

I appeal to the logician 
And all men of erudition 
To tell why I should suffer, for the space of twenty years. 
From a ghostly expedition 
That without an intermission. 



^ And without my own permission, has tormented me with fears-rj 

►- -< 

^ I implore a requivsition ^ 

t For the permanent remission :3 

^ Of the dread, noctvirnal visits of this antiquated shade; ^ 

^ But I have a slight suspicion rj 

t That it seeks my recognition ^ 

^ To air a proposition that, to hear, I am afraid. ^ 



t SLANDER. n 

t ^ 

I Confess I must, and for forgiveness hope, 3 

I When wanting food, I shot an antelope, 3 

^ Which wounded, fell, and writhing where it lay, ^ 

I Tried long in vain to rise and limp away. ^ 

I It raised its eyes appealingh' to me, ^ 

i And, mirrored in their depths, I seemed to see ^ 

I Reproachful innocence; and then it stirred ^ 

I And gave the saddest wail I ever heard. ^ 

► I felt as one nnist feel who trembling stands ^ 

t Above the victim murdered by his hands, :: 

t And hears, transfixed, that weii'd and smothered cry, ^ 

i That from the mind of guilt can never die. ^ 



f^^jtXxALXil.i-^AAilJ.lAlAi^AAi^Ali^Ai.AiJ.Ai^J.AX^.LAlli.ilAAili^i^lJ.i^Aiii.i.ili.i-1-lli-l 



ri TTTTTTTT TTTTTTT T 



48 



Too often deadly messengers are sent 
At innocence, with more unjust intent; 

Which like a leaden bullet, pierce and maim 
A human soul both pure and free from blame. 



THE SUICIDE. 



^ 'Tis midnight and the little Hamlet sleeps; ^ 

p No sound is heard of hurried tread; 3 

t The passing river slowly winds and creeps ^ 

I Around the village like a thread, ^ 

1 And softly shimmers in the mellow light : 

t Reflected from the tranquil orb of night. ^ 

t 3 

P Upon the bridge that spans the placid stream ^ 

p There flits a form so spectre-like ^ 

p It seems the phantom of a transient dream, 3 

t So wierd, uncanny does it strike ^ 

I The watcher who observes it hover there ^ 

p A troubled spirit in the darkened air. :i 

t It moves, it halts, it shudders ! as inclined :; 

p To some most terrifying deed, 3 

p Impelled by some distressing state of mind; — 4 

p Distracted so it will not heed 3 

p The voice of conscience, which in vain condemns, ^ 

p So much the awful stress of woe o'erwhelms. ^ 

[ Again it glides, and then it stops once more :3 

t O'er midstream, just between the piers, :3 

p And then again it trembles as before 3 

C In pain severe, too deep for tears, 3 

I It seems the crushing weight of grief alone ^ q 

^ Has driven reason from its wonted throne. ^ 



Li--^-i-t.iliii tiL^li-i^.i^i^-JLl^t^t-i.A.i.iLAAtll^aa.li-i.i.Ai^l.li.^Ai.Al^li.l_iAi^i.i.i.i.llli.lAAia^.ii_i^Ai„iAX^i 



L 



'^''■^'T''TTTTTT^TTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT7TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT-TTTTT;5 



49 



AMBITION. 



A 



The shrouding mantle is now cast aside ^ 

And there a woman stands revealed, ^ 

Within whose bosom ebbs and flows a tide :; 

Too violent to keep concealed, ^ 

While in her arms, enwrapped in slumbers mild, 3 

There lies the child of i^^uilt yet .a^uiltless child. ^ 

She clasps it to her heart again, again, ^ 

And pours her soul upon its lips; ^ 

Impulsively she fondles it, and then ^ 

She climbs the rail and, tearless, slips, . i 

With babe in arms, into the fleeting wave ^ 

To hide dishonor in a nameless grave. ^ 



t I love to meet aspiring youth A 

E Because in him I find :: 

^ A potency that will forsooth ^ 

I Unfold a useful miiul. A 



: I love to listen to the voice i 

I Of his ambition keen, :3 

: And hear him make decided choice ] 

F Of some vocation clean. j 

E a 

^ The ])Os.sibilities of years ^ 

^ * Are cradled in his brain; A 

E A wealth of smiles, a sea of tears ^ 

K - . J 

t Are his to lose or gain. :j 

I A 

I With fate and fortune in his hands :: 

E He carves his own career; ^ 

[ ] 



i.i.A^i^i.ii.iiiAiAiii^iaiii.i.iAAi.iix>ii.xA.i^iii.iii.^ii..^iijii.mxii.ii^xaiii^i^xiiiiiii 



t His fame may reach to foreign lauds 
I Or it may perish here. 

^ Whate'er the future yields, we know 
t That he will act aright 

I Through all the 3^ears of weal or woe, 
t According to his light. 



MY PAINTERS. ^ 

There is a painter who paints for me, ^ 

And he poorly paints by day, ^ 

But paints at night with a fiendish glee 3 

As wierdly as did Dore. ^ 

When twilight comes with its soothing ^ 

And care has ni}- last adieus; [spell ^ 

On canvas black, like an imp of hell, rj 

He flashes his lurid hues. ^ 

Whenever his scenes grow dim and faint ^ 

My spirit will darkly brood; ^ 

And every change that he cares to paint rj 

Is met with a changing mood. ^ 

-« 

I think my painter would fain portray 3 

And picture my heart's desire, ^ 

That glows, then glimmers and fades away ^ 

So like the inconstant fire. 3 

There is another who paints for me, 3 

With a skill almost divine, :: 

With a touch of art and a fancy free, ^ 

And a grace and charm benign. ^ 



iAlAJ-4Aijli-».AAAAi.i 



rr^r-TTTTTTT T T T T T T T T TT TTTTTT T T T T T T^ TT T T T TTTTTTTTT T T T TTT T TTTTTTTrTTTTTTTT TT TT TT TTTTTTTTTrTTT^ 

I i 



51 



i He paints alone in the winter time, ^ 

^ An4 travels the wide world o'er, ^ 

i To keep in touch with the genial clime ^ 

I That treasured his work before. h 



t ■ He paints by day and he paints by night ^ 

J: Whenever the cold is keen ^ 

t And leaves a picture of cr3'stal white :3 

I And shimmering silver sheen. ^ 

;: ' :J 

►: I think this painter no ill can mean, ^ 

t For though in despair I be, :3 

J: He traces with masterly skill a scene ^ 

J: Auspicious with hope to me. 3 

I 



^ THE MAGIC STEED. 1 

t A monarch said, "Give me a steed :i 

E That can attain the highest speed ^ 

^ And never feel the slightest need ^ 

:: That man or beast can feel." :3 

>- -i 

p A genius rare at once began ^ 

^ To form and shape and plot and plan ^ 

t: The greatest gift to mortal man,— :3 

^ The swift and silent wheel. ^ 

t :3 

►- M 

I He made it with a diamond frame ^ 

^ And gave to it an awkward name ^ 

t: And brought it all submissive, tame, 1 

I Before the mighty king; ^ 

i Said he, "Here is a creature fair ^ 

t Without a feather or a hair ^ 

I Will bear your highness througli the air h 

E Although it has no wing. ^ 



lUlilili lii illiii iiiiiilili iilliiillilii^A^iiiliii.ii.i..i-i.l.».lAl.i-ii.i^l^i.XiJUJLi 



^TTTTTTTTT TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTyTTT T TT T T T T Tt T TT TT TTTTTI TTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT^ 

^ A creature that is never fed, ^ 

I Without a tail, without a head. . ^ 

t That never wearies when it's sped 3 

t Alhough it's always tired; ^ 

t Though light it bears a heavy load ^ 

t: In safety over any road 3 

J: And always goes without a goad ^ 

t Wherever it's desired. 3 

t It cannot paw, nor fume and fret ^ 

^ Nor wet itself with foam and sweat, 3 

^ It has a giant's strength and yet ^ 

t It's slender as a spider; 2 

^ Though often sought, it never seeks, 3 

t Though it has spokes it never speaks ^ 

p Although it sometimes dryly squeaks ^ 

P A warning to its rider." :J 

t A moment there the monarch gazed, :J 

t With wonderment and awe amazed ^ 

^ And then triumphantly he raised -^ 

^ The genius to renown; 4 

t Proposing this deserving toa.st, — 3 

^ "The magic steed we love the most 3 

t That ever like a Banquo's Glio.st ^ 

^ Is up and will not down." ^ 

t ? 



DAWN. ^ 

4 

Rising early, sweet Aurora. 3 

W^ith her golden, streamy hair 3 

Soft and silky as angora, 3 

As the goddess Venus fair; ^ 






L 



rTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT^TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT^^ 



53 



^ Warm and tender is their iiieetin.i,'^ 

t Each with radiance agh 



low, 



t When Aurora meets the sun, 

^ Happy sun ' 



Meets tlie rapturous embraces of the sun. 



As she welcomes his advances 

vShe is radiant with Hght, 

) resplendent in her glanc 

And so artless in delight; 



^ vShe is radiant with light, 

t vSo resplendent in her glances 



j: Woos the glances of the sun 1 

I Courtly sun ! q 

t Woos the fond, admiring glances of the q 

t sun. ^ 

X I'rom his oriental splendor ^ 

I With his retinue of rays ^ 

K And a love-light beaming tender 3 

I Forth he comes through golden ways t 

^ To greet his love from frost-land, 3 

t- Snowy land ! ^ 

p To greet his charming sweetheart of the ^ 

^ frost-land. ^ 

y- -i 

^ I'Vom his ]:»resence, kingly, stately, ^ 

^ All the lesser lights retire; ^ 

l Calmly, gracefully, sedately, \ 

^ He proceeds in rich attire ^ 

^ And gathers up the dew-jems, ^ 

t Pretty jems ! ^ 

I And gathers all the brilliant, sparkling ^ 

t dew-jems. :j 



:J 



And the kiss exchanged in greeting ^ 

Is as pure as virgin snow, :3 



i-4-lii.ll.i^Xi.lii.lii.iiAi^iai.l.llli.li.lAi^UAiAiallXAii.iiAi^Ui^i^i.i.ii.iilAiAi.Aiai^lAi.lli.i.ia^U^3 



^TTTTTTTT-TrVtTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT f T T T T T t T T T T T TTTT TTTTT T T T T T T T I TITTTITTTTTTTTl 

I 54 

I vShe is happy with the sun, 

t Gentle sun ! 

t With the tender, chaste caresses of the sun. 



For awhile in love ecstatic 

They commune in silent bliss; 
Then Aurora, — so erratic, — 
With a final melting kiss 
Has evanished from the sun 

Careless sun ! 
From the warm and clinging kisses of the 
sun. 



MUTATION. a 



1 sat at my window in long ago 

Mid deafening noise and din, 
And I saw the traffic to and fro - 

And thought how it might have been 
Had some genius born with inventive power 
Met the stern demands of the day and hour. 

I sit at my window again today 

And see all that passes by, 
Though it does not go in the same old wav 

It did in the days gone by, 
With the constant tramp of the hoofs that beat 
Through the devious w^ays of the stony street. 

A genius came and transformed the scene 

And banished the noise for aye, 
Though many more than of vore I ween 



^-LlkXXjLilll il i i i i Ll.i.i.lJ.i^i^LJ.i^X^l.l.i^i., 



l.i.AAiA_iJ.i.i.i..l^ iAl A AA.i^ii.i_i.^ AlXi^;3 



rTYTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT^rrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTr^ 



t 55 ^ 

t Are passing along this wav; ^ 

^ But the horse has gone for the sieed of steel i 

t And the people pass on the silent wheel. : 

t My hair is sprinkled a bit with gray :J 

t And wrinkles are on my brow, ^ 

I But I feel as young as I did the day ^ 

t I looked on the street as now, ^ 

h For I now rejoice in a vigor rare ^ 

^ . As I glide awheel through the countr}^ air, ^ 

^ ^ 



AN AUTUMN SUNSET. 



Within the ruddy glow rj 

On the horizon low, ^ 

A dark cloud 3 

Is mirrored in the a/.ure of the west; i 

And its somber shadow falling 1 

Forms a contrast most appalling 3 

With the halos brightly oiitlined on its crest. :; 

In all the rainbow tints :3 

The sun-dog gleams and glints 1 

Through the haze ^ 



t Obscuring half the splendor of the sun; 

^ But although his light is duller 

t There's a majesty of color 

E And a mellow evanescence he has won. 



K The sun sinks in the sea, 

^ The golden, gleaming sea, 

I And the glow 

K Is waning in the occidental sky, 



LlAJ^Al-U^Xi.XiA-i.Aii.i-i-ii-ii-iliiJ-i-'-l.-l-i-i-i-li-'.i-AlXli.ii-l 






^TTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTtTTTTTT-T 

t 

t 

I And the vision of his treasures 

I Ivike a dream of joyous pleasures, 

I Fading, leaves us but a memory and sigh. 

^ The niglit comes on apace 

^ And wraps in its embrace 

t The still earth 

:: To slumber till the morning light shall l)reak : 

^ But the frosty distillation 

t And the starry scintillation 

^ Keep a twinkling at each other wide awake. 



I 



i SMOKING MY LIFE AWAY. I 



I'm feeling so sad today, — 

So sad and undone todav, — 

For I hourly nurse a destroying curse 

That's srr.oking my life away; 

Smoking my life away 

And leading my will astrav, 



t 

h 

^ For I've lost the whole of my self-control ^ 

I While smoking my life away. 4 

►- ^ 

^ Invoke me a curse today, — ^ 

i. A curse on the tyrant's sway, 3 

I On the subtle power that each day and hour ^ 

^ Is smoking tny life away; ^ 

ii Smoking my life away, ^ 



While I am a helpless pre 



^ To the soothing spell that I know full well ^ 

t Is smoking mv life a way. ^ 



lAlAAlAXAAXXAJ.l_l.i_ill_iAAAXAlAXXA.i.lJiltAll_lAAl_i.l_iiillAl_l.llAAl. 



i.l.l.lAllLlA.l.XMXi 



rTYTTTTTTT TTTTTTTT T TTTTTTTTTTTyrT TTTTTTTTTTT T T TTTT T T TTTTTTTTTTTT T T T r TTTT T T TT TT T T TTT TTTTTT^ 



57 ; 

vSo costly the price I pay, :i 

For, ever from day to day, ^ 

I am breathing death in each poisoned breath ^ 

While smoking my life away; ^ 

Smoking my life away, j 

From now 'till my dying day, ^ 

I will feel the need of the deadly weed 3 

That's smoking my life away. ^ 



I A LAMENTATION. 

t 



t Today I searched the "standard" magazines rj 

E In hope, perchance, to find a bit of verse, — ^ 

t Some simple, sweet expression, pointed, terse, ^ 

^ Expressing sentiments, portraying scenes ^ 

I Wherein the thought was even well expressed, ^ 

:: But found them most insipid at the best. ^ 

t What editor is there these modern times, ^ 

K Can sense a worthy poem when he reads; 3 

t Or comprehend that which the public heeds, q 

K Or draw, the line that bars all stilted rhymes A 

I And welcome those alone, wherein there blends :J 

I The thought and dress that justify their ends? ^ 

t I 

^ To gauge their scope by what they all accept, h 

I These editors are but a sorry set; ^ 

I Declining all the worthy "with regret;" :3 

E Through all their short-lived columns there has crept ^ 

t That only, which, of all that comes to hand, ^ 

t Thev had the hardest work to understand. i 



^i^J^X±XXHAA^l.l.I 



Likiiili.LkAxll.iA^i^l~Li.jLXXl.>jL.XX±±±iJ^LJ.i.ii.iLi.i.J 



{[;rrrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTmTtTTTTTTTrTTTtTT1TTTTTTTTTTTTT 

I 58 



TTTTTTJ 



^ Poor Byron could not write svicli wretched stuff, ^ 

t Nor Pope, nor Burns, nor even Edgar Poe, 3 

^ Who wrote his verses in a metric flow ^ 

^ Nor sought to leave his diamonds in the rough ^ 

t So mental experts, only, could detect ^ 

j: The value that all others least expect. A 

t i 

I The "Psalm of Life" would be returned with thanks :; 

I "The Barefoot Boy" would meet an equal fate; ^ 

t The "Elegy" of Gray, " The Ship of State" 3 

^ And all such simple, sentimental pranks, — 3 

t For which poor Pegasus must take the blame, — ^ 

^ Could through no "standard" magazine reach fame, ^ 



t 3 

E i 

i THE BETHROTHAL RINQ. \ 

I . '- ] 

K \\ hen Cupid d\\ elt in the fairv land, q 

^ The mythical realm above; j 

t He sealed his heart in an endless band :; 

t And placed the ring on his true-love's hand,^ ^ 

{; On Psyche the soul of love; 4 

^ Such constancy did this treasure bring, ^ 

K Such joy in the love-sworn oath, ^ 

t So close, indeed, did the lovers cling 3 

t That ever since has the magic ring ^ 

t Been sacred to plighted troth. :} 

t As the rainbow hangs in the misty air i 

I ■ A symbol of sweet portent 4 

^ That holds the beacon of hope to prayer, i 

^ A joyful promise to sad despair, :3 

\ ' ' ^ 

\ - I 

t 1 



'TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT T I 



L, 



59 



The ring, enclosing the shapely form 

Of the maiden's finger, stands 
For constancy in the calm or storm, 
A guide and gauge to the pulses warm 



THE BLACKMAILER. 



Wherever its hues are bent; ^ 



t That throb in a thousand lands.- :3 

I Were it endowed with the gift of sense . 3 

^ What stories it could unfold ! 3 

I Of love receiving its recompense ^ 

t In a pressure tender, warm, intense, :3 

p That the soul can not withhold; :j 

I Of faith and trust in the pledge of love, ^ 

t Of ever attentive care; :; 

t: Of cooings sweet as the artless dove, ^ 

t Of purity like the stars above, ^ 

t And of kisses chaste as air. ^ 

t 1 



I I look upon his face — a hypocrite q 

p With aspect sinister; a snake-like gleam ^ 

t Is in his eye; his venomous tongue is fit ^ 

t To lap the putrid scum from Stygian stream ^ 

t Or furnish poison for the arrow-tip ^ 

^ That messages a death from savage bow. ^ 

► I clearly see upon his sensuous lip ^ 

^ A fitting vent for the debouching flow h 

^ Of sewage from a tongue as foul as hell ^ 

t That would for gold its doubtful silence sell. . ^ 



lAi.lii.lii,Ai.llJ.i^ii.l.illAi.Ali^i.i.ia.XAlXlillAili.i.liJ.XJ.lllli..i.AAAa.lAl^llAi.Xlii.lXXXi^J 



^TTTTT"' 



^TTTTTTTTTTTT M Trt f T r T T t T T T T TTTTT T T TTTTT T TTT T T T T T T T T TTT T TTTT T1 



60 

BETRAYAL, 



I saw lier once, — I would I could forget, — 
A blushing rose gave perfume to her hair; 

I did not love her then — nor since — and yet 
I may be pardoned if I thought her fair. 

Her large and trusting eyes to me expressed 
A world of innocence and simple truth. 

Becoming one whom nature had caressed 
And left resplendent in her virgin youth. 

I saw her once again, — regretful change; — 
Her features bore the traces deep of care; 

Her heart to guilt and guile no longer strange, 
For she had nursed a venoined serpent there. 



TWO BOOKS. 



The other day 1 read, — unwelcome thought,— 

A novel recommended by a name; 
Perhaps I failed to grasp it as I ought, 

And should have kept in. mind the author's fame; 
But I preferred to judge the work in hand 

By its effect upon my mind and heart. 
And, if its worth I failed to understand, 

'Tis due to my deficiency in art. 

A veritist, or realist, I think 

Was w^iat they called the author of the book; 
Which suffered here and there a missing link, 

But worth, perhaps, the labor that it took ; 
But somehow I completed it distressed, 

And morbid, harassed, wearv and misused; 



Liiiii ilU.lt.lXX±±±i^iA.i.^A^i.i 



TTTTTTTTTTT7TTTTTT T T T TTt T T TT T TTTTTTTTTT T T T T T T TTTTTTT T T T T T TTTTTTTTTTTT T T TTTTTTTrr^ 

I i 

t n 

t And on the whole, if truth must l^e contessed, 1 

^ I felt mv sensibilities abused, q 

i ' ^ 

I I read another book, — perhaps unreal, — 3 

t Impressionist — the author may have been; ^ 

t It so portra^'ed and pictured the ideal, '] 

I That I forgot that other world of sin; i 

t So thoroughly this dreamer touched my heart, ^ 

^ I took forthwith a brighter view of life, 1 

^ And, laying down the book, with simple art ^ 

t I rose and kissed mv children and mv v^nfe. ^ 



LANDING OF COLUMBUS. 



K The night wind rested, and the listless sail ^ 

^ Hung limp and motionless above the deck; ^ 

t The vessels all laid to, in easy hail, :; 

K And eager eyes were glued upon the speck ^ 

^ That hovered o'er the placid moonlit deep ^ 

t Presaging land, precluding aught of sleep. 3 

'- -i 

t All mutiny was stilled in anxious hearts :J 

^ That long had suffered agony untold, ^ 

E And criminal intent, excused by arts ^ 

i- Of .specious plea as innocent as bold, ^ 

^ Lay dormant and forgotten in ^the sight j 

^ That greeted watching eyes that charming night. ^ 

y- ^ 

I At two o'clock the rose-tint of the dawn ^ 

^ Revealed at last the gleam of promised land, ^ 

^ And all their dread anxiety was gone; ^ 

^ The tender wept, the bravest were unmanned, 3 

^ For, thoiigh the land should prove a trackless waste, ^ 

t It was at least the phantom thev had chased. ^ 



LXi.iAAii.i^i^i^i-i.lU^i.tXJiiiiiUlXiiiilii 



k^A^LlJ 



FrrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT\TTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT-TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTT-^ 

[ I 

h The glowing morn, wilh its resplendent liglit, :? 

I Enlit what seemed a most enchanted spot, ^ 

t And every licart v.ith joy and hope was bright, 3 

t And months of long-drawn agony forgot; : 

t The anchor cast, the boats were manned and armed ^ 

To follow him thev lately would have harmed. 3 



Columbus bent his rapture-beaming eyes ^ 

Toward the near and dear, approaching shore. :: 

Attired in scarlet to affect the guise ^ 

Of courtliness becoming one who wore 3 

The dignities conferred him for renown, :: 

In bearing thus the standard of the crown. ^ 

The wondering inhabitants with awe ^ 

Bethought the ships were birds with mighty wings. ^ 

And, in their fancy, pictured beak and claw ^ 

And plumage on the awe-inspiring things; ^ 

All gathered on the shore to feast their eyes ^ 



i Upon the white-winged messengers of skies. 

^ The atmosphere upbore a perfume rare 

t From flowers that ])loonied perennial and free, 

I And drowsy was the soft and balmy air, 

I And calm and still the deep, transparent sea; 

t It seemed indeed some sweet enchanted isle, 

^ Where fairies might in joy abide the while. 



The mild and sunlit air impassive slept, :J 

Wooed In- the incense from a thousand flowers. ^ 



t . And smilingly the glinting brooklets crept, 

I Through fairy glens and ha])py woodland bowers 

\_ Beneath whose S3dvan shades there gurgled springs, 

E And all the air was gay with whirring wings. 



ii--l-i-AAil-*-li-«l.i-i.i.Al-i.i-il.li.li.ii.i.l^iJii-i.iJ.i.AAlll.iAlAillAAi.i-i.Xll.i.llil.llAi.i.i.Ali.i.ii.AlAi.J 



'fTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrtTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT 



K The pliiina<'e(l l)ir(ls in all i^rismatic hues, 1 

;: From branch and twig were flitting blithe and gay; ^ 

t^ And turtle doves, with plaintive wooing coos, ^ 

t Gave just a touch of pathos to the day ^ 

I ^ Made musical and happy by the notes ^ 

t Awakened from a thousand tiny throats. ^ 

I They reach the shoi-e at last, and prostrate kneel, ^ 

I Returning thanks for triumphs grandly won, ^ 

t All clad in their habiliments of steel ^ 

►: That glinted in the splendor of the sun, ^ 

t The proud commander gorgeously arrayed ^ 

t With all the pomp of majesty displayed. ^ 

^ With overwhelming joy, the pent up tears ^ 

t Outpoured in thankful flood upon the sand; ^ 

t As recompense for all their toils and fears q 

f They trod at last the welcome promised land, ^ 

t And, as the dog that licks the hand that fed, ^ 

t All crouched submissive to the man who led. ^ 

t When all their dread intentions had been told, :} 

^ Columbus, with a shepherd's gentle soul, ^ 

: Received the errant sheep into the fold, 3 



: Forgave with magnanimit)^ the whole, ^ 

^ Forgetting vengeance in exultant bliss, ^ 

j: With artless love he gave his hand to kiss. ^ 

t ' 3 

t ^ 

^ Had he not triumphed over mental night h 

t And scaled the ocean fortress wide and high? ^ 

h Then who would envy the exultant light :3 

t That gleamed in satisfaction in his e^e? ^ 

t He had accomplished, while beset with fears, 3 

K The greatest peace achievement of the years! ^ 



i.i.^.i.l^All.^^Xi.i.i.lXi.l.i.XkLi.AlXXJ.i.XXJ^XiA.^Ll.i.i.i^Li.jL.Xll.XlXi^i^i.i.l.li.t.l.Xi^lXlJii^i.l.i.i._L^l.l^i^LLi.i 



r TTTT TTTT TTTT TTT TTTT T 



64 



FISHING. 

I love to s])cn(l my leisure hours 

Where nature ealls and love invites; 
On mossy banks, amid the flowers, 

And fish without a thought of bites. 
What care we if the ogling fish 

Peer upward through the lucid deeps? 
Why should we blush and idly wish 

Seclusion from their cautious peeps? 
I care not what the world ma}- say, 

1 love the fisher's patient art, 
And will forever bless the day 

1 fished and caught mv true-love's heart. 



COUNCIL OAK. 



Thou gnarled and knotted freak'- of sluggish growth. 

Deep roooted in historic virgin sod, 
Where happy lovers plight their sacred troth 

And savage feet in vanished years have trod, — 
What tragic scenes hast thy deep shade concealed? 

What hast thou seen that time has not revealed? 

Thy stunted arms in benediction spread, 
Thrill all inquiring souls with somber awe; 

Thy wind-swept leaves breathe tidings of the dead 
Who bivouacked here before the reign of law 

And passed away, nor left to us a name 

To wreath in garlands or enshroud in shame. 



I ■•Oak in Riverside Tark, Sioux City, la. 



F-TYTTTTTTTT T T T t T T T T r t TTTTT T T T T TT-TTTTTTTTTTT T T T T T T T TTT T TTTTTTT T T T T T T T TTTTTTTTTT T TTTTTTTTTT^ 

I I 

t ^ 

t Canst thou not tell to nie \vliat pioneers 1 

►- *^ -< 

I In bygone days explored this promised land, ^ 

I And here encamped, where through primeval years ^ 

t No feet had trod save those of savage band, :3 

^ And feasted here l:)eneath thy spreading arms ^ 

p And slept unconscious of impending harms? ^ 

^ Perhajjs the chieff who sleeps on yonder hill ^ 

i Communed with braves once gathered where I stand, 3 

^ And plotted here to forage, scalp and kill, ^ 

t And rescue from the foe their native land; ^ 



Perhaps they had a right to it,— but no! 
There are but few who view the matter so. 



^ Proud patriarch of all that greets the view! ^ 

^ Within thy choice dominions are embraced 1 

t The picturesqvie environs of the Sioux — :3 

^ A realm that lavish nature grandly graced rj 

^ With landscapes richer than the painter's art h 

t To cold and listless canvas can impart. ^ 

I Here, where the painted braves were wont to greet ^ 

t Their stolid chieftains in the long ago, ^ 

I Three kindred states in friendly greeting meet; :3 

t And, where the sweeping streams together flow, ^ 

t A thriving city spreads, and here has made :5 

I Her chief resort beneath thv cooling shade. ^ 

I ' ' I 

t And here, where once the dusky council met ^ 

K To ponder on and plan its scheme of war, :3 

^ And where determined wooers even yet ^ 

^ Secure the maids they are campaigning for, ^ 

^ I stand and dream and listen to the tale :J 

t That's whispered by this monarch of the vale! ^ 

I tWar Ivagle. ^ 



rTTTTTTm TTTTTTITTf T TTTTr TTT TTTT1 TTTTTTTT TT T TTTTTT T TT TT T TTTTTTTi 



t . - "66 

t 

I TO MY CIGAR. 



t O sweet, seduclive, captivaliiig roll! 

t Within thee hirks the viper's deadly sting, 

^ Whose poison, subtly stealing, soothes the soul, 

t Caressing fondly, like a sentient thing. 



t I welcome thee e'en as I would a friend, ^ 

^ The dear companion of my troubled hours; 3 

^ And all my harslier moods to thee unbend ^ 

^ Subservient to thv hypnotic powers. ^ 

- I picture forms within thv fleecv cloud ^ 

I And hold conmnmion with the things of air; ^ 

I And mental pain, beneath thy drow^sy shroud, ' ^ 

r Forgotten is, while I am <lreaming there. ^ 

I And even now, while bent upon thy task ■* 

I Of consolation, thv dread potion works; ■* 

t O tell me why so oft behind the mask i 

^ Of seeming friendship base deception lurks? :j 

i: Of thv seductions, — I can well believe :J 

^ They are the most in.sidious of all; :3 

t If such an artful serpent tempted Eve ^ 

E I can no longer wonder at the h'alL ^ 



t THE BLIZZARD. 4 

[ ■ .. . \ 

X. Raging and whirling, a maddening throng ^ 

^ Of keen, cutting snowflakes that fearfully hi.ss; -^ 

^ 111 blind, seething fury there scurries along, :3 

t The death-dealing storm, in whose icv cold kiss -^ 

J^ . - ' ' :J 



^•'■■'AAAlAAill^iaiii^ll.liiaAAl^i.Al.i.i.AiiAAi.i.i.i.lAi^l.AAAAli.ii.ilAi.ii.Ai.i-l.Ai.li.iJ 



rrYTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT^TTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT^ 

^ -i 

t There lurks. all the poleucv deadly to feeling 1 

I While artfully bent on its task of congealino-. i 

I ' I 

I Away on the prairie, alone in the storm, ^ 

t Where no habitation can succor and aid, 3 

t In thought sore bewildered there struggles a form ^ 

t As noble, yet helpless as ever was made; ^ 

t While over him subtly a drowsiness stealing, ^ 

t- At last overwhelms and he falls in his reeling. 3 

I . . \ 

\ Within a rude hovel, a stranger to care, \ 

t There huddles in squalor a mother and child, ^ 

t Whose shivering cries ai-e all lost on the air 3 

I And mocked by the laugh of the elements wild; 3 

p W^hile over them slowly a warmness is creeping 3 

^ That leaves them at last in a love-embrace 3 

^ sleeping. ^ 

I Wierdly along, like a requiem wild, 3 

t The northwind is screaming and eddying on; 1 

I But, calm as a zephyr, comes peacefully mild, i 

^ A hush, and behold! — all the fury is gone; 3 

t But sadly the tender are bending and weeping -^ 

P Above the white faces so peacefully sleeping. 3 



GENIUS. 



i 

I 

t 

'^ As one who stands upon the sunlit peak 
t Amid the deep infinity of space, 

K Too thrilled to move, too charmed and awed to speak, 
^ I contemplate the genius of the race, 

I And worship at its solitary shrine 

^ In deep soleninitv, as near divine. 



^■»-*-»-i.Ai.i-A-»i.A-iAAi^AllJ.iali.i.lAlAii.i.i.lA^l^iii.ililAi.i.l^iaiJ.Ai.i.i.lAlJ 



^TTTTT'TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrrTT T TTTl TTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrT' 



SOLITUDE. 

The torrid sun directs depressing- shafts 
Fpon a weary stretch of western plain, 

While not a breath of summer wind tipwafts 
'J'o cool my parchint( face and fevered brain. 

The heat, uprising' in an endless sea 

Of waving chaos, forms a nodding waste; 

While distant blades of grass across the lea 
Seem virgin forests solitary, chaste. 

A heat mirage obscures horizon's verge 
And stilliness, oppressive, awes the soul; 

The fetid earth and heaven's azure merge 

While wavy indistinctness shrouds the whole. 

Xo sound of moving life Ijreaks on the ear; 

The rattlesnake lies sluggish in the sun ; 
The prairie grass is prematurely sere. 

And animation stands appalled, undone. 

My aching heart beats loudly as I stand, 
As quiet as a statue carved of stone, — 

In spirit sore distressed and all unmanned, — 
T feel it is not good to be alone. 



I 



THE OLD HOMESTEAD. 

A love to recall the old homestead. 

I would not, nor could I forget 
The scenes that were dear to my childhood. 

The scenes that are dear to u'.e vet. 



^~^^~^^i^i^^i-^^i.i^^^^±i~LXAi^kJJL.M.±X^XiXi.AJ^i^i^ULX^^XJ 



i. XX±X^±±±1.X±XJl i 



rTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT-rTrTTTTTTTTT^ 
69 

How hopeful the sowing at springtime! 

How fruitful the harvest in fall! 
How joyous the proud independence 

That seems to me dearer than all! 

How sweet on returning at even, 
From fields that I so loved to roam, 

To see in the old farmhouse doorway 
My mother to welcome me home. 

How oft in the hush of the twilight, 

When cows homeward trudged through the del 1 , 
I've listened with pleasure at hearing 
The soft, tinkling sound of the bell. 

'Twas sweet, as I gladly remember, 

When weary, to pillow my head. 
And, wooing the goddess of slumber. 

Repose in my soft feather bed. 

'Twas sweet to awake in the morning 
To bird-warbled notes from the trees, 

And breathe through the half -open window 
The vigor of health from the breeze. 

And somehow it seems to me truly, 
. Those days of my youth were the best; 
When I was content with the homestead, 
And life had its relish and rest. 



THE OLD MILL STREAM. 



t I see in retrospection, though the picture brings a sigh, ^ 

K The dam which turned the water-wheel in good old daysg-oneby, 3 



iijLjLi.L^lXAX±X±J^i.Allill ii ii i 1 1 1 1 1 



^TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT'TTTTTTTrTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTrT'TTTTTTTrT-^ 

I '° I 

^Tlie smiling miller met me on the platform by the door, A 

t Enlivened at the prospect of his tithe of grain, or more. ^ 

I :j 

^And when I took my grist to mill I spent the livelong day, 3 

I And ate my dinner while the team at noontide munched the hay; 3 

^ Above the dam the boys would swim; below the men would fish, — 3 

t The miller meantime taking all the toll his heart could wish. ^ 

t 'a 

^Upon the banks of that old stream I've treed the wary coon, 3 

^ While hunting through the forest with no lantern but the moon ; 

t And many a night I've gladly heard the hounds' triumphant bay, 

^ A sweeter music to me then than warbled roundelay. 



^Upon that stream I used to boat, my sweetheart by my side; 
^ Her eyes were glowing with delight, her cheeks were crimson-dyed ; 
t Those days are past, the dam is gone, the stream a boy can wade, 
I No fishes gambol in its depths, no lovers woo its shade. 

I The mill itself has vanished through the years of slow decay, 
^ And e'en the piles on which it stood were long since washed away; 
^The miller ceased his grinding when he rendered up his soul, 
^ In hopes of higher recompense than any earthly toll. 

I Of that old stream and mill-dam naught but memory survives, 
I For all the old familiar scenes have vanished from our lives; 
^But so it is through all the years, we know not why nor how, 
►: The happy Then is changing to the stern and sober Now. 



THE ONE I LOVE. 



She is alwa3'S sweetly smiling 
And the passing hours beguiling 
With some idle reminiscence or a snatch of some old song; 



t :: 



'■TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTT'^ 



I And her sun is always shining ^ 

t And her clouds have silver lining, q 

t She is strange to all repining and she cannot know a wrong. ^ 

t We are often seen together ^ 

t Walking down the hedge and heather, ^ 

E Both as happy as two creatures ever were since time began; ] 

I While the doves are gently cooing 1 

I And the cows are faintly mooing ^ 

t We enjoy the task of wooing as true lovers only can. 3 

t ' i 



She is untaught to dissemble 
And her honest. eyes resemble 
All the brilliancy and beauty and the purit}^ of stars; 



I A BALLAD OF PIE. 

t -_ 

K I'm a scientific baker, though I'm not a money maker, 
^ And I couldn't and I wouldn't tell a lie — naughty lie; 

t But the fact is sure as shootin' that for pastry hifalutin' 
t- I will stake my future fortune on my pie — charming pie! 



And her modest lips inviting ^ 

Welcome every kiss alighting, ^ 



From the first to last, unslighting, with a relish nothing mars. :J 

She is trustful and confiding 1, 

W^ith an innocence abiding, j 

And she feels that I am worthy of her confidence and love; ^ 

And she gives them free as water, ^ 

And I know that I have taught her ^ 

That I love my little daughter as a father ought to love, q 



LiiiiliiiiiiiillliliiiiiiiiitiiiiHi iiiliil iiAi ^tlt^llH-.iXi,l.XX^XiiAlllililiii.i.XAXijL*. 



''TTTTTTTrrrTTTTTT T T T T TT* TTTTT T T T T T T TTrTTTT T T T TTT T T TT T T TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT-' T TTTTTTTTTTTT TTTTT^ 

I 72 \ 

E I had just returned from college with a smattering of knowledge ; 

And a very marked deficiency in health— needful health; ^ 

: So I went to South Dakota, like a modern Don Quixote, ^ 

E To chase the fairy phantom known as wealth — fickle wealth? ^ 

E There are many potent forces in that land of quick divorces ^ 

^ That will neutralize the culture of the Hub — mightyHub! ^ 

^ And my feverish ambition found its outlet in the mission ^ 

:: Of appeasing my abnormal calls for grub — vulgar grub! 3 

t In this status so annoying I was guilt}^ of emplo3dng \ 

1 As the caterer in chief to feed a horde — hungry horde ^ 

: Of the leanest, lankest "skinners" and the most consummate \ 

t sinners : 

- That ever gathered round a festal board — western board. :3 

^ Now a ' 'skinner' ' in that region is a member of the legion ^ 

E Who are deft and potent wielders of the lash — stinging lash! 3 

: And are experts in berating stubborn mules engaged in freighting, 3 

'- And in speedy dissipation of their cash— filthy cash! ^ 

^ Their facility as eaters gives them prestige as world beaters, ^ 

r And of baking powder biscuits the}' are fond — very fond! ^ 

:: So it seemed to be my duty to these skinners strange to beauty \ 

I To conjure up these dainties with my wand — magic wand! ^ 

;^ So, when on the reservation of the might}' Indian nation 1, 

I Who are known in feats of villainy as Sioux — ugly Sioux! ^ 

I Far from human habitation, in a nervous agitation, : 

; I would meet my obligation best I knew — barely knew. h 

t As a fact that needs explaining, I confess my only training ^ 

t Was a momentary call upon a cook — manly cook, ^ 

^ Who had but explained the making of the biscuits he was baking, ^ 

r As I had no time at hand to seek a book — cookingf book. ^ 



L^^li,illiiiX-i. 



f:TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTrTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTrTTTTTT7TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTl 



^ With an aniateurisli longing and without a thought of wronging i 

^ Or of causing by my verdancy a sigh— human sigh, ] 

I I bethought me I would vary the monotony and marry ^ 

^ A little of my genius to a pie — luscious pie! ^ 



^ So I rummaged through the larder with a deal of worthy ardor 
t For the chemicals and compounds I should need— badly need; 

I And with bread-pan for a mortar and my fingers for a sorter, 
i I had soon made preparations for the deed — fatal deed! 

t With a heart with joy rebounding I was busily compounding 

^ All the needful for my masterpiece in pie -crispy pie! 

I While a dozen hungry "skinners" were impatient for their 

t dinners 

t Though there wasn't one of them prepared to die — quickly die, 

t First, the elements potential, flour and water, were essential, 

I Then a little salt and quite a deal of lard — greasy lard! 
^ And to make the pie crust airy it was thought quite necessary 

t To mix with baking powder, kneading hard — dreadful hard! 



t When this massage was completed, with the roller pin I treated ^ 

I This great mixture that should usher in an age —grander age! i| 

i And I rolled it thin as wafers and then cut artistic capers i 

t As a frontispiece upon the title page — handsome page! ^ 

t It was filled with canned tomatoeo, though if 1 had used potatoes 3 

t I am certain the3^'d have answered me as well — full as well; 3 

I Then I shoved it in the oven with the vigor of a sloven ^ 

t And awaited in impatience for its smell — wholesome smell! -j 

^ With imagination heated, when I thought the work completed, ^ 

^ I then opened with avidity the door— oven door; ^ 

I Then I fell back! So amazing was its faculty of raising : 

►: That the space prevented it from raising more — anv more. ^ 






rTTTTTMITTTTTTTTTTTTTT^TTTTTTTTTTTTTrTyTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT'rrTrTTTTTrTTTTrTTTrTTrT- TTTTT-* 

K It was puffy and plethoric, both Corinthian and Doric. ^ 

I With its spires and rugged columns running high-mountain high,' ^ 

t And the raw tomato filling that I thought would be so "killing" ^ 

t All was lost within the caverns of that pie— portly pie! I 

K I admit I had expected that my genius had erected 3 

t A great monument eternal to my name— honored name! I 

t But I made no calculation that an Indian reservation ^ 

^ Should contain so swell a tribute to my fame- -transient fame! : 

I As a pie-ous ultimatum it remains without erratum — t 

t My first and last and only work in pie — heaving pie! < 

K But the fact that I should bake it should so self important make it, ^ 

I Still seems to me a gauzj^ reason why —reason why, : 

^ As a freak of pastry cooking, there can be no overlooking : 

t That its only worthy rival was the one — fabled one, < 

I Where the blackbirds four and twentv — and that number is a 3 

r plenty— ' ^ 

t Flew singing from its portals when was done- -fullv done. 3 

r ' H 

t When I called the hungry- dozen-and no need to coax and cozen- ^ 

; They assembled round the grub and took a seat— grassy seat; ^ 

t And they fell at once to filling — like a pack of coyotes willing ^ 

t To undertake most anything to eat — ^fit to eat. ^ 

t When the first course was completed and their startled eyes 3 

: were greeted ' ^ 

i With the pie prepared by their beloved chef — willing chef, ^ 

t Each arose in turn suspicious, and with policy judicious, ^ 

I To all of my entreaties they were deaf— very deaf! ^ 

^ They were somewhat disconcerted, and to tell the truth, diverted, ^ 

t I thought I should surprise them -and I did — yes I did! ^ 

t But respecting my intention, they all promised not to mention 3 

I A matter that were better alwavs hi<l— closelv hid. 3 



^'■^■^-^^^-^^^-^-^^^-^^^^^^it'i-^^i^i-li^i.^Ll^iill^i.XjL.ll.i^kLA^iA.XAi^LXXi.klll.i^L^^i^LXXi^ 



riTTTT TTTTTTTTTTT-TTT-TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT'rTTTTTTTTTT'rTTTTTTTrTTTrTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT^ 

►- i 

t 75 ] 

t There is somewhere on the prairies, where the rattle-snake still ^ 

^ tarries, ^ 

i And the sagebrush and the cactus flourish dry — very dry, ^ 

t A production that's attested to remain yet unmolested — ^ 

^ A non-corrosive prodig}' of pie —mammoth pie! ^ 

^ In this age of advertising, what developments surprising ^ 

^ Yet await the enterprise that should rely — would rely — ^ 

^ On the argument that's hoarded and is even yet afforded ^ 

^ By my baking powder miracle in pie — virgin pie! I 



THE MISSOURI. 



The proud Missouri sweeps amain, 
In sandy trail across the plain; 
And plenty follows in her train. 

She sings a song in rythmic flow, 

Of mountains and eternal snow. 

And mines of boundless wealth below: 

Of rustic scenes in glen and glade. 

Where shepherds have their flocks conveyed 

And rugged habitations made; 

Of gushing springs on either hand, 

Of crystal caves and canons grand. 

And cataracts b}^ rainbows spanned; 

Of spots where once were wigwam fires, 

But now a maze of cit}^ spires, 

Where all is found that man requires. 

Upon her bosom throbbing free. 
She bears the flowers of the lea. 
To greet with perfume rare the sea. 



litiittiiiitiiij^t^^^-^^^^^^'^-^-^^ 



FTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT-'TTTTTrTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTfTTTrT-l 

\ 

I THE ALABAMA HOQ. 



t Missouri has the "3^aller dog, " ^ 

t That most repulsive brute, \ 

l But Alabama has the hog 4 

E That has the longest snoot; q 

^ His bristles all are firmly set ' :3 

^ And sharper than a brad, :3 

t He always has his back up, yet j 

^ He isn't always mad. ^ 

► \ 

t A menace to the conmion weal, 3 

^ He's never sick a day, 3 

:: Was never known to miss a meal ^ 

^ And never known to paj^; :; 

^ A most consumptive looking brute, 3 

t He has the leanest meat, 3 

^ And as he has the longest snoot 4 

"i He has the most to eat. ^ 

^ He's often pestered by the dog.. ^ 

P But he don't care a d t 

I He's independent as a hog ^ 

t: And happy as a clam; ^ 

^ If devils ever entered swine :3 

^ There are a score at least ^ 

"i Of naughty demons who combine ^ 

k In this infernal beast. ^ 

^ ^ 

t Although they need a better breed, 3 

^ Way down in Alabam; ^ 

: . They have at least the very beast : 

K For making ''Deviled Ham." :: 



^^.i-l^.i^Li.XiJLkll^i.ijL^LXi^k±i.kkl.LLLLi.i.^ll.i.i.lkki. iililllilliillllliiiilillllllllltitl 



rTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrrTTTTTTTTTTTTT-rTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT^ 

^ • 77 

t: ^ 

t MY LOST. 3 



t Over a little pair of shoes 

^ I bend and weep; 

f: I would not these mementos lose 

t For gold sea-deep; 

^ They're all that's left to me of her 

t Gone these long years, 

I At thought of whom my eyes will blur 

t With bitter tears. 

^ Only a pair of shoes well-worn 

t With childish tread,— 

t The cherished relics that have borne 

^ My sacred dead; 

t . They are to me of priceless worth, 

^ Revered for love 

^ Of that sweet visitant to earth 

t Returned above. 



THE CENTENARY OF BURNS. 



t The world is filled with countless songs 

t To which undying fame belongs, 

^ Of smiles and tears and rights and wrongs, 

t Each vending its own hobby; 

I But of all bards of high degree, 

^ Whose songs are rich in melody, 

t None sings so charmingly to me 

t As mv ain bonnie Robbie. 



klAlliJ 



\.i^Xl.±J~L±XJ.±J.l±JLLLA^iXlJii.i.i.lI 



rfYTTTTTTTTTTT^TTTTTTTT^TTTTTrTTTrrfTTTTTTTTTTTTTT-rTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT-TTrrrTTTfTTTTTTTT-rr* 

t i 

78 3 

t i 

t He pities e'en the hapless mouse 3 

t By chance evicted from its house, ^ 

^ And moralizes on a louse 3 

t Upon a bonnet nobby. 3 

t He's dear to Scotia and to me, ^ 

I And for a' that will ever be; 3 

t: "O wad some power the gif tie gie"" ^ 

K Another such as Robbie. ^ 

►- -< 

^ He aired the impulse of his heart,- ^ 

^ Employing but the peasant's art, ^ 

^ Acquired about the village mart j 

^ Or field or farmyard lobby; i 

p But so sublime his sweet address :J 

t To Mary, full of tenderness, ^ 

^ It will his name forever bless, ^ 

t The honored name of Robbie. :3 



TO LOWELL 



► Come Lowell, come and sing to mef 

^ Thy tuneful lyre 

^ I fain would think is strung for me, 

E For none admire 

t More ardently thy genius' fire; 

t Come Lowell, come and sing to me! 

t Had I, dear Lowell, but thy art 

E And fancy free, 

E I would unbosom all my heart 

i And hold with thee 

t Communion as thou dost with me, 

I Had I, dear Lowell, but thv art. 






tHE PRAIRIE FLOWER. 



FTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTT-rTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT-n 

f 79 . 1 

t 

I 

I Where the prickly cactus rages, 

^ And the frowning clouds for ages 

E Have seldom shed a sympathizing tear, 

f: An uncultivated fiovv^er 

^ Blooms within a withered bower 

t- In an arid waste of prairie brown and sere. 

t Unpretentious, vtnassummg, 

J: It continues lonely blooming 

t And lavishing its fragrance on the air; 

K And, though no eye looks upon it, 

t: It deserves a poet's sonnet 

I As the one oasis in the desert there. 



'Tis addicted much to giving 
And the wayward bees are living 
As its ever welcome pensioners, — and yet 



In luxuriance of color, all their debt. 



F Its benevolence is paying ^ 

I For the insects are defraying, :i 

1 



I EVENING. ^ 

t When softly the waning light ^ 

^ Fades out of the evening skies, ^ 

t Then open the eyes of night, — ^ 

t The bright, little twinkling eyes; . i 

K And eyes that are bright by day rj 

I Grow weary and faint and close, 3 

t And, curtained in sleep away, ^ 

^ On cushions of down repose. ^ 

t 1 



[iiiimnniHiiiikiiki^^'-^^^^'-^'^^^^^'--^^^^^^^^^'-^^'-i 



rrr TTT TTTTTT TTTTTTTT-«TTTTTTrrTrTTT TTTTT T T T T TT TTTTTTTTTTTTTT TTTTTTTTT T TT fT TTTT TTTT ^ 



80 



J: With eyes that can never weep, 

t Sewed into their muslin heads, 

I Are two rag dollies asleep 

:: In little cigar-box beds; 

t And there by the wall in twos, 

i Asleep by the wall in rows, 

E Are four little faithful shoes 

I Worn out at the heels and toes. 

^ And two little baby tots 

t Have offered a baby's prayer 

t And gone to their baby cots 

I Where all is forgot, and where 

i Kmbarked in a downy boat, 

^ As snug as peas in a pod, 

^ Away from the world they float 

t To visit the land of Nod. 



:: Try to treat your wife today 

t In the fond and gentle way 
^ That you wooed her; 

t She is now as sweet as when 

t In the courting season then 
I You construed her. 

^ Though she pins her faith to you 

^ Never doubting you are true 

t You avoid her; 

t And her heart has heavy grown, 

E But it's your neglect alone 

t Has annoved her. 



^-^■i-^-t-i^Xllll.kiAAXl.i.Xi. il.Xkli ili illiilt illiHi iiliiillllliilti 



THE WIFE. I 



rTrTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT^TTTTTTTTTTTTrrTTTTTTTT 



Si 



TTTTTTTTI 



I^ove is all a woman's life, ^ 

And you owe it to your wife ^ 

For it won her; j 

And a little thoughtful care ^ 

And caressing will repair ^ 

Mischief done her. ^ 



Try again the loving kiss 
That was never found amiss — 

It will mend her; 
And her face will seem more fair 
With the love-light gleaming there 

Warm and tender. 



COME, BABY, COME. 



Come baby, come to your papa now, ^ 

Come little darling to me; ^ 

Never another as sweet I vow, ^ 

Never another like thee. i 



Thou art the blossom of perfect love, ^ 

Sprung from a union divine; 3 

Never an angel in Heaven above ^ 

Had birthright purer than thine. ^ 



^ vSouls intertwined in a sacred tie, :; 

t Hearts in their purity wed, — ^ 

t Bound by a love that can never die; — ^ 

I These to thy little life led. 3 

^ Nothing is purer, my babe, than thee; 3 

t Come thou and stand at mv side! ^ 



^-L^^-LA '^Xl.i^AjiLAl.li.i.J.XAi^JUAi.Lll.l.XlXXl^J^i^XXl.i.M.LULXlA.l-Li.iA.l^i.LlAJi^^i.AlA^XXJ.i^i.Al^i.l 



rTTTTTTTTT T T T TT T I T T T TT TTTT T T T\ TTTTTTTTTTTTTTT T TTT TTTT1TTTT T T T rT TTTT T T T TT T T TT T T T T T T TTTTTTT-^ 

►- -i 

P :} 

: 82 I 

: Lift up your innocent eyes to me, 3 

: Hold up your head in its pride! :J 

^ . ^ 

K Were every baby as sweet as mine, ^ 

I All from deception as free; ^ 

t Were every life, love, as pure as thine, — ^ 

t O what a world this would be! ^ 



I AM MARRIED. 



I cannot sing of lovely maids. 

Of eyes and cheeks and auburn curls; 
Though heart should prompt the tongue evades 
For I am married. 

My brain has no inspiring w^hirls, 

No virgin fount from which to draw ; 
However much I love the girls, 
For I am married. 

Of all the girls I ever saw, 

'Twere strange indeed did none impress; 
Perhaps they did— but then, O pshaw! 
I now am married. 

The ogling glance, the sweet address, 

I dare not, will not greet in turn ; 
'Twere sacrilegious — nothing less. 
For I am married. 

vSo girls, howe'er your ardor burn 

Your wasted sweets I can't return 
As you may readily discern. 

For I am married. 



\.i^i.i.i^i^Xl.i.lLi.i.l.ll^l.XijLi-Li.A.Xi.Xi.l.Xl.i.Jili.i.A±i^i.i.i.i.A.i.i.i.ll.i.i.l^i.X.I^l.Li.X^AM 



rTYTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT^rTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTl 



<S3 



THE WIFE'S LAMENT. 



Why don't you tell me often that you love me, 
My husband dear, as once you used to do? 

I wonder too, you do not oft caress me. 
And show me that I yet am dear to you. 

I know you love me though no outward token, 
And that your heart I yet entire possess; 

But yet I long to hear the old words spoken. 
And feel again that former love caress. 



THE WHEEL. 



I value above the nation's wealth 

The gift of the silent wheel. 
The foe of ills and the friend of health, 

All hail to the steed of steel ! 

The days of the giants all are sped 
And vanished the life of length. 

And the ancient Samsons all are dead 
And gone are their feats of strength. 

But who can tell v.-!iat the future holds 

In fee for the coming race, 
When the mind of man each day unfolds 

Some triumph o'er time and space? 



It may be long ere we ride the air 
And conquer the wayward breeze, 

But we have the wheel and we little care 
For it takes us where we please. 



k^lAXAlIi 



LlAAii.ia.jLAiJ.iAliii.i.AAii.i.i.i.l^lJ 



iiiX-i-AllJ.i.AlAi.XillijLXiJ.j 



rTTTT TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTttTTTtTTTTI 



84 



We may attain our estate once more 

And our span of life extend, 
And the giant strength of the days of yore 

Again on the race descend. 

Here's to the wheel of whatever name 
That most to the world appeals, 

And here's to the genius rare who came 
And mounted the world on w^heels. 



WOMAN, QUEENLY WOMAN! 



Hypatia taught the Hellenese 

And led the flower of youth 
From wa5^s of darkness by degrees 

To everlasting truth; 
And so from beauty's chastened lips 

The errant world was taught, 
That sex can never quite eclipse 

The brilliancy of thought. 

Well ma}' her Greece in its old age. 

Reflecting on the past, 
Point proudly to the lustrous page, — 

The page so near the last, — 
This heroine and martyr graced 

While freedom gave her sway. 
With learning most sublime and chaste 

That has survived her day. 

Joan of Arc, that saintly maid. 
Who nerved the fait 'ring host; 



L.i^AAli^i.J.AJ.XJ.i_l.iJ.i,i.ijLXJ_LAl.LA^i.i.AAi.4i.J 



i.i.l^Xl.l.^XllH.111 AAiilllii^i^ i i_l^ 



TTTTt ttttttttttttttttttttttt t tttti 



' r T TTTT r T T T T T TTTTTTT TT T T T TTTTTTTr^ 



t Who at the shrine of country laid 
^ What woman loves the most, 

i And like a goddess she arose, 
t And, seizing shield and lance, 

I She flaunted in the face of foes 
t Defiance all for France. 



:3 

The field of Orleans gently breathes ^ 

To her exalted name, ^ 



t A victor's praise that puts the wreaths 

f: Of Caesars all to shame; 

t Her fame throughout her native land 

t For aye will live to teach 

I . That fortitude and valor grand 

^ Are both in woman's reach. 



r Then, Mrs. Stowe's inspiring touch q 

t Has swayed us as she willed; 3 

►: No other ever has so much ^ 

F Our deep emotions thrilled; ^ 

t She proved that brain was never sexed, ^ 

l And all her life she sought ^ 

t To broaden and enlarge the vexed 3 

^ Democracy of thought. 3 

t No marble shaft the world can raise ^ 

t Could glorify her name, h 

t Nor could an epitaph of praise :: 

^ Contribute to her fame; ^ 

t No crumbling pile of senseless stone ^ 

K Should desecrate her grave, h 

^ Her monument should be alone '^ 

t The liberated slave. 3 

t Then Mrs. vStanton, grand and brave, ^ 



^XAX^a i,i^ A i.i i.i. IJ J 



I. AAA V AX A i A i_LA AO. i^ A i. UL 1_ ..1. A XjLA J. AA l.ijLU. i^XX Xl^l^Li J 



^TTTTTTTTTTTtTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT l TTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTm 

: 86 ^ 

I In thought the peer of men, ^ 

► Who from the cradle to the grave ^ 
I Has broadened woman's ken; 3 
: She faced, at best, a cruel world 3 
I In struggling year by year, ^ 
I But never was her flag unfurled q 
: Except in woman's sphere. 3 

i 3 

i Louisa Alcott won a place ^ 

I Supreme mthin the heart, 3 

I Because her labors for the race . ^ 

t Have now become a part ^ 

► Of all we are or hope to be; 3 
I For none, in simple truth, ^ 
i Has ever done as much as she ^ 
t Has done for child and 3'outh, ^ 
^ -< 
} As long as we can voice a note, ^ 
I The fame will never dim. 3 
t Of Julia Howe, who grandly wrote ^ 
: The thrilling Battle Hymn, ^ 
r That will forever keep us brave ^ 
^ And faithful to the end, ^ 
^ While there remains a flag to save 3 
I: Or country to defend. ^ 

[ Despite her views of human rights ^^ 

I The world will long be taught ^ 

I By Eliot, who reached the heights ^ 

► And depths of human thought; 3 
I A woman gentle and benign, h 
: And yet so brave she hurled -^ 
I Defiance through a love divine ^ 
\: That scorned a formal world, • 3 
t ■ ■ ^ 



l.AXi-Li^iai.i.li.iXXAi„Oai.i.i.J.i.ii.liXi.AiJ.jLj.J^i.ili.Ai.lAiAi.i.Xi.AJ.i.Ali.»ai.i.lJ 



'rTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT^^ 



WIFE VISITING. 



► Within the silent chamber here 

t My heart's desire 

t Once honored with her presence dear, 

^ I woo the fire; 

I I watch it's gleam and while I dream 

K So pensively, 

K It glints and glares and ghostly flares 

t Offensively. 

t I gape and nap and, waking, sigh 

I To find my love is nowhere nigh; 

I And, petulant almost to rage, 

t I turn and look 

I For some bright book 

:: That will my loneliness assuage. 

t I thumb and cull the dumb and dull 

t And well-worn tomes, 

t But find there's nothing quite to mind 

t- So much my fancy roams. 

^ While musing o'er confusing lore 

t Once so lusty, now so fusty, 

I Mouldy, musty, old and dusty, 

I . Cranky, crusty, soiled and rusty,— 

I Never seeming so before; 

^ I stop and wonder why in thunder 

I Life is such a bore. 



AT SIGHT. 

I said: "There is ni}' wife!' 
But then, to save mv life 



t -»-i-L>i. A 1 i. i. i. 1 1 A 1 i. i-l-XJ. l_i.i^ 1 i. i. i i^ A i A i_i.i XI IJ. A i. i. i i. .. 1 A i^iO.^ AO. i^XAiJ. 1 A i. AAXiLA J 



^TTTTTTTT, T . T , T T T T T T T T T T T TTTTT T T T T t > t HT T T T T T T TTT T T TT1T T T I T f T > T T T T T T T T T T T IT T T T T T T T TTTTTTT^ 

t I know not wli}' I said it; ^ 

t Nor why I should declare A 

t My passion then and there i 

t And take so much on credit. 3 

t Though spoken in my mind ^ 

I My thought the maid divined, ^ 

t Nor did she seem unwilling; ^ 

t And, though our lips were mute, : 

t ' Love's newly wakened lute 3 

t With melody was thrilling. ^ 

t •< 

t All this was long ago 3 

I And I would have you know 3 

t I stopped my useless suing; ^ 

K But, like a lover true. ^ 

I Since I began to woo, :; 

:: I never have stopped wooing. ^ 



WASHINGTON. 3 

4 

The Revolution's mighty son, ^ 

The father of the nation ; :: 

Whose noble deeds of duty done ^ 

Are known to all creation, ^ 

We praise him as an honest youth ^ 

And brave, there's no denving; :: 

'Tis said he always told the truth ^ 

When tempted much to lying. ^ 

He faced his father like a man ^ 

When once he thought he'd catch it; :J 

There's no reply more manly than 3 

"I did it with mv hatchet." i 



i.LAi.XAA.XJU.l.l^l.l.i 



Li.JaAliAlAli.iJ 



^TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTrrTTTTrTrTTrj 
t 

^^ A man of stem but noble mind, 

:: Of stately, manly beauty; 

I Though dignified, he too was kind, 

I And never shirked a duty. 

t ^ ^ 

l To victory he paved the way, — 

t The Delaware — he crossed it, 

I And thus he grandly won the day 

^ Where others might have lost it.. 



I 



And wlien he died, in grief repined 

A nation without tether. 
For it had lost a man designed 

To hold all hearts together. 



LORA. 



q 



I I look into her raven eves 3 

l Wherein a wealth of beauty lies, ^ 

t When lit with wonder or surprise ^ 

t " That questions me; ri 

t And then, my dear, I somehow feel ^ 

J: That life for me is full of weal I 

t As long as she remains to seal 3 

t My soul to thee. 3 

^ Her innocence, almost sublime, ^ 

t Reminds me of that happy time 3 

^ My face resembled in its prime 3 

I Her features now; 3 

t I fondly wish that she remain 3 

^ As innocent and strange to pain 3 

^ Until at last grim death shall reign 3 

t Upon n\v brow. 3 

E :3 



fc-i-ii-i-A l.i.1 Ai^ Ai. li Ai. . 



rTTTTTTTTTTTTTT TTT TTTT T T T T T T T TTTTTTTTTTTTT T T T T T-r T TTTT ■» TT T T TTT T rTTT T T T T TTT T TTI T T tTTTTtTTTT^ 
t 90 '3 



NEWSTEAD ABBEY. 



t There stands a crumbling, haunted pile h 

^ That one time housed a race accurst ^ 

E By venomed slander, doubly vile, ^ 

^ Because it fabricated crime : 

^ As foul as lies in filth immersed I 

p Could paint the devil in his prime, : 

t Within those grim, baronial walls : 

,' IvOrd Byron was one time immured, I 

: And there he listened to the calls 3 

t Ambition made, and, wrong or right,, :i 

^ He fled, ere he had long endured ^ 

I His soul's imprisonment and night. ^ 

F He sought the blue Italian skies 1, 

t To riot in illicit bliss ^ 

: And revel in, and eulogise ^ 

; The lapse of native virtue, where ^ 

K E'en chastity evades a kiss :! 

I Because of danger lurking there. ^ 



When weary of debauch at length, 
His discontented mind and heart. 

His wealth and influence and strength 
Were all enlisted the cause 

Of struggling Greece, the nurse of art,. 
To win or lose her sweet applause. 

But ere the die of war was cast 
The fever and delirium came, 
And restlessness found rest at lAst 



^-^i'i-^-i-i-i^-i.^kliii il.J.i.l.AlixXl LI I ii.XXi.XtAAi^A^i-li_t.i^l.li.i.iLi^i-Aa.l.l^^XXi.i.i.i^^iXllJ.U..i-i.i.Xi.i.i 



rTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT T T T TTTT T TTT TTTTTTT Tl 



91 



While muttering in tenderness ^ 

Bach dear and yet dishonored name ^ 

Of those he loved who loved him less. ^ 



MAN EATS MEAT. 



I It was a long, long time ago 

t When man ate like a beast; 

I It must have been, for all we know, 

\ Five thousand years at least. 

I The Hebrews knew and were quite glad 

^ That cooked meat would not spoil, 

I And poor old Job quite often had 

\ A big, fat, juicy boil. 

I Then Raleigh, it is not denied, 

\ Gay courtier and fop, 

I . Received a moment ere he died 

I His very last cold chop. 



His genius grandly made amends ^ 

For torture from his caustic pen, rj 

And won the title from his friends ij 

Who have forgiven faults of birth, q 

Of poet-peer of England then, ^ 

Now poet-peer of all the earth. ^ 



'Tis said the men who first ate meat 

I^ike jackals ate it raw, 

But now they cook it ere they eat, 

They do no longer gnaw. -^ 



:3 



iAAAiJAlU^lJ 



Lia.i-iXi.i-iAAAil.l.i.ii-iXi.i.i.i.XltlJ.i 



p Poor Bruno had the wannest dish ^ 

^ His enemies could make, ^ 

t It was, though much against his wish, 4 

C: A red hot, sizzHng stake. 3 



LOVE. 

All ears to hear, all e^-es to see, 
A lion roused — at peace a dove; 

A selfish virtue it may be- - 
The only one — and it is love. 

But ne'er since Cupid first began 
The havoc of his magic art, 

Did sweeter cherub ever fan 
Diviner flame within the heart. 



LINCOLN. 

I would I could, in some exalted strain, 
Portray the worth and grandeur of a soul 

As great .as ever mortals can attain, 

I then might find my labor, on the whole 

A pleasing task, because the theme inspires 

With all that man reveres and man admires. 



I 



And then again, the Scriptures say, ^ 

While Christ was at his post, ^ 

The Scribes and Pharisees each da}^ ^ 

Were sure to get a roast. ^ 



i.lAAi.i.i_l.^lA,LAi_i.i.Ai.Ali.AAA^il..i^i.i.AAAiii.i^^^i_i.iAAj.Aii.l^iai.i.J 



Li-l.AXl.i.XAi.lA l.AXi_i.i.l.i^A J 



TT T T T tTTTTtt TTTTTT t t tt t tttttttttttttttttttttt tt t t tttti 



t 93 3 

i Of what, at best, is worthiness composed? ^ 

t Must heroes always bear the stain of blood? ^ 

►; To what, at most, is kindly fame disposed? 1 

i The archives of the world contain a flood 3 

t Of records filled with earth's most famous names, ^ 

^ Some measured by results and some 'by aims. 1 

I _ ^ 

t A title can convey no thought of worth; 3 

^ There's no distinction but deserved success, ^ 

t For, after all, there is not much in birth h 

t- And blood means little and it mav mean less, ^ 

I For character is certain to appear ^ 

^ Though rags or purple be the garb and gear, :; 

t And what is wealth, but potency abused ^ 

t Unless it bring a righteous boon to men? 3 

I And what position, if it be not used ^ 

I For some unselfish purpose now and then? ^ 

t Where Mercy, even tempered, guides the hand, ^ 

t There Justice finds a dwelling in the land. h 

I ^ 

; P'ame does not haunt mausoleums and tombs ^ 

t Where all is dumb and dull and dry and drear; ^ 

t Nor yet the mighty pyramid that looms ^ 

I Above the dead, that living shed no tear ^ 

I For all the griefs and woes of toiling slaves ^ 

t Who built a landmark o'er dishonored graves. ^ 

i 3 

^ . . ^ 

t Great L/incoln grandly won his meed of fame :; 

f Through purity of motive and results; ^ 

t Through tenderness, and that diviner flame ^ 

t Of fervor that religiously consults ^ 

I The conscience in performance of an act ^ 

E Which justice wanted not, nor mercy lacked. ^ 



.i.LllJ.i.lljLl^L±l.iA.±Xi.±^ki.XAii.lXXlAi^l.i.^llt.i.A.iJilJ.XSk±ll.ll.i.±LJ 



' TTTT TTTT TTTTTTT TTTT rTTTTTTTT TTT -T ^ 

I „ I 

^ Of humble birth, with no auspicious star ^ 

t To augur aught of honor or success, :i 

I Surmounting ev'ry obstacle and bar, ^ 

I He mounted to the heights of worthiness ^ 

t And left upon its pinnacle a name ^ 

I Engraven in the pedestal of fame. ^ 

K -1 

^ As broad and wholesome as his native lea, 3 

t As rugged as the forest he adored; 3 

I His brain untrammeled and his pulses free h 

I As throbbed within the eagle as it soared, ^ 

i The emblem of his country, o'er the plain, ^ 

t Or ruled the air in solitary reign; ^ 

t- A humble man, wath loyal soul and true, ^ 

p Great Lincoln had the energy and power, 3 

t The full capacity, the greatness due 1, 

I To meet the stern requirements of the hour; ^ 

I Ignoring self, he sought the public weal, 3 

t With honest aim and most uncommon zeal. :? 



TRINITY. 

You, my love, and baby. 

Are all of life to me; 
You and I and baby, — 

A mimic world of three; 
We measure with our smiles and tears. 

The joys and griefs of men. 
And with them suffer through the years. 

Misfortunes now and then. 

You, my love, and bab}-. 

Are more than dear to me; 



i.i.Xiiiiiiiii^i.i.lli.11 i ii ta.i.X^AAiAll^AlAli.^itiiiillili illiliiiiiillllliiliiiiiliiliiiJ 



ptttttTTTt T TTTTTTTTT-TTTTTTTTTTTT-TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTtTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT-TTTTTTTTTTTT^ 

[ 95 I 

^ You and I and baby, — ^ 

t A loving trinity ; :4 

t We form a magic rule of three 3 

^ Which cannot come amiss ~ ^ 

t To reach the unknown quantity ^ 

t That bears the name of bliss. 1 

^ You, my love, and baby, h 

^ My happiness assure; ^ 

t: You and I and baby, — :5 

^ A world in miniature; ^ 

^ No matter how false others be ^ 

P So long as we are true, :3 

t There'll be at least a world of three ^ 



Where love is ever new, 



CHANGE. 



I A drop of water, by the hot sun kissed, rj 

t Uprises from the sea in form unseen; rj 

^ Wind-swept ashore as darkly clouding mist h 

t It cools to rain und robes the earth in green. ^ 

t It seeks a spring and gushing from its fount, ^ 

t_ It trails a rivulet across the lea; ^ 

^ And, swelling like a torrent from the mount, ^ 

t At last debouches on the waiting sea. ^ 

^ :! 

t: From sea to spring and spring to sea again! -^ 

I Now in the earth, now hovering in air, h 

I Now falling as the dew; anon as rain, 3 

t And then again as crystal beauties rare. ^ 



ti llli t it t m,i i,i i 1 I i i I i t I i ijMll.llHtiMtA^''^'^t^^tliiiliiiilliIl.iAiliiliiiililiiliiiilJ 



'TTTTTTTTTTTn 



96 

All this is change, and nature must submit; 

And though it nothing loses, nothing gains; 
Though forms may change, assuming those 
more fit, 

The substance, indestructible, remains. 



MATRIMONY. 



Two sparkling streamlets, blithe and gay. 
Course through the flowered lea, 

And each, unfettered, seeks it way 
To greet the waiting sea. 

There seems to be a subtle power 
That makes the like converge, 

For, day by day, and hour by hour. 
These streams together merge. 

And soon their ways are so inwrought 

That both together run, — 
"Two souls with but a single thought. 

Two hearts that beat as one." 



LOVE S TALE. 



l You can read it in the eye, beann'ng lovef 

t And it never tells a lie, truthful love! 

P It is such a happy feeling 

^ That one cannot help revealing 

f- For it laughs at all concealing, happy love I 

t When it trembles on the lip, frightened love? 

I 'Tis the eye that gives the tip, watchful love! 
^ And you know there's no mistaking 



^■^^^■^■^■^^^^^^i^^^ii^^i:il^.^^ m .i.i.i.l~i.i.t.Al.Jii^i.Xi-Li^i.i.li.i.l.l.l.Xi.i.l.i.i.i.li.XXi.l.i.ljLi.A.lXi.i^LJt.i.i.ljLl.i 



rTTTT T T T T T TTTTT T T T TTTTTTTTT T T T T T T T TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT TTTTTTTT 



TTTTT-^ 



t 97 

i 



L 



That a heart is ripe for breaking 
Should its idol try forsakiiig.such a love. 



t Tis a Shylock in disguise, robbing love! 3 

^ In demanding bonded ties, cruel love! ^ 

t; But although it is exacting, ^ 

t It will not admit contracting, ^ 

t For it's value lies in acting out your love. :3 

t _ _ _ ^ 3 

I ALEXANDER AND DIOGENES. ^ 

f. -< 

t ( A'rrENDANT ) 3 

^ -< 

^ Thou art Diogenes. I come to you ^ 

h With orders from my master, who ^ 

f: Is none but Alexander, called the Great; ^ 

K Receive him as befits his state. 3 

f ( AI^EXANDER ) H 

^ Philosopher, who art much famed for lore, ^ 

t I would that we had met before; ^ 

^ But now, that I am here, I came, 'tis true, A 

^ To see what I could do for you. ^ 

^ ( DIOCxENES ) 3 

I ^ 

t- Proud dog of war, thou fabled son of Mars, ^ 

I 1 would that I could heal the scars ^ 

^ That you have caused by bloody .shield and lance ; ^ 

t Begone and give the sun a chance! ^ 

f (AI.EXANDER ASIDE) ^ 

^ Ambition I have glutted all in vain ; ^ 

^ For here's a man more fit to reign; ^ 

p Were I not Alexander, I would please 3 

I To be but this Diogenes. i 



.i^AAAJjL^JkiAXAi 



rTTTTTTTt TTTTTTTT TTTTTTT^ TTTT TTT T T TTT T T T TTTTTTTTTI 



rTTTTTTTTl 



98 

THE HAPPY MAN. 



;: His nose is flat, his lips are thick, 
: His face is black as coal; 

i His form is lithe, his movement quick, 
i And merry is his soul. 

I He spends the day in blacking shoes, 
^ Behind a barber's chair, 

I And tells his customers the news 
t As free as Heaven's air. 

t At night, from hidden nook unknown^ 

^ He comes in evening dress.; 

t Upon his shirt-front gleams a stone 

I Sublime in ruggedness. 

t ' ' 

\ He dances at a colored ball 

^ In ecstacy supreme, 

^ And feels the many pleasures all 

\ Of which we onlv dream. 



REFLECTION. \ 



l I somehow feel so sad today 
\ While all alone, 

\ That I, but late a child at play, 
\. So old have grown. 

\ I can recali when days seemed years, - 
\. Now years seem days, 

t And, what would once occasion tears, 
\. Provokes amaze. 

Soon I will be a gray, old man 
With feeling tread,, 



I. AA JO. 1 ja xi^X^^iAii 1 1.1 liaXAi^XAl 



L A 1 XAA lA i A 1 l.l_ii iXA A XXAAA J 



' TT TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT TTT TTTTTTTTTTTTT 



TT TTTT r TTTTTTT 1 



I 99 H 

t And childish thoughts will once again i 

t Reign in my head. 4 

i Thus to the grave I'll totter on, 3 

I Frail, bent and thin; ^ 

^ And men forget when I am gone ^ 

t That I have been. 1 

t As years progress, one thought consoles,— ^ 

t That while 1 live, ^ 

^ 1 he friendship of congenial souls :} 

r Will comfort give. q 

P 1 



TO MY WIFE. 



I My loved and my dear, loving wife, 

^ My soul is enraptured with thee; 

t My love, thou art breath, blood and life; 



And all that is dearest to me. ^ 

:3 



^ As fuel and light to the fire, 

^ As water and shore to the sea; 

I Or e'en as content to desire, 

t vSo thou art, my darling, to me. 

I My memory cherishes dear, — 

I I could not, nor would I forget, — 

^ The moment, the day and the year 

t Some angel disposed and we met. 

I 

t Our lives have so blended since then 

t That mine became thine and thine mine 

^ And each became wealthier when 

t Two children became mine and thine. 



'■^■*-*-i-^^-4--iAA-l-i--ii~*..l-tli.i-tlli.i.i.liJLAAA_iAJ.i.i.i^ilii^Xiai^i_l.i.l>lliAAlJU.li^l_i.lli.i.i 



fTTTTTTTTTTT ? T TTT T TTTTTTTTTTTT TTTTTTTTTTTrTtTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT^ 



WHEN LOVE GROWS COLD. 



t If love should fail what is there left of life? 

I Ah what indeed ! when tender hearts congeal, 

t And brother, sister, parent, child and wife 

t No love can feel? 

t What is the home when tenderness has fled? 

^ Ah what indeed! a sterile, cheerless spot, — 

t A tomb where every sentiment is dead, 

^ If love is not? 

I What would become of all our earthly bliss? 

t Ah what indeed! if ties no longer bind, 

t And fond caresses and the fervent kiss 

I No rapture find? 

^ If love should fail what means the gentle touch? 

t: Ah what indeed ! what means to young or old? 

t What signifies the cradle or the crutch 

^ When love is cold? 

I What sweet incentive to heroic act? 

t And what indeed! and what ambition's fires,, 

t If, in the struggle for the goal attacked 

^ No love inspires? 



GREATNESS. 



t Once Johnson reached the place that Lincoln won, — 3 

t A strange anomaly, as now appears; ^ 

I One was forgotten when his work was done, — 3 

^ The other has grown grander with the vears. ^ 

t- ■ ' " a 



k-^-*-^-^AAJ.i.J.i-lJ^i_ii^Al^AXJ^i^i-iiailA^A»Ai.iaiAi^i^ij.i.lAi^i.JLi.Ai.i.i^i^>^l^i.Ai^^ 



FTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT-T'TrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT-^ 
t ^ 

^ TOT ^ 



lot 



MUSIC. 



I There is music in the air, ^ 

^ There is music everywhere, ;j 

I There is music in the meadow where the summer sun shines; 3 

I There is music in the breeze, ^ 

I' There is music in the trees, i 

P And there's music in the rustle of the vines. 1 



E BEAUTY. 



GIVE ME THE MAIDEN. 



t The maiden of nature, unconsciously blushing, 

t And sparkling with love in its purity sweet, 

t That fresh from her heart like a fountain is gushing 

t And pouring it's torrent divine at my feet. 



The maid who is kindly and queenly and gracious, 
As cahn and serene as the bhie azure dome; 



k 1 llli 



t There is beauty in the sun, 3 

t When the day has begun, - 3 

l There is beauty in its setting at the eve behind the hill; ^ 

i There is beauty in the night i 

P . When the stars shine bright, ^ 

^ And there's beautv in the moonlight calm and still. :; 

t ' \ 

\ ' \ 



O give me the maiden of modest demeanor % 

As fair as the stars that bedazzle on high; ^ 

When ripe for the harvest let me be the gleaner ^ 

.\nd garner the treasure lliat gleams in her eye, ^ 



iii iiiiiiiiiiiiiiijii^iiiii x 



lliiiiiliilli.XXXiiiiiiAii.i^.tAi.il-tlAi^i 



g^TTTTTTTTTtTTTTTT T T TTT TTTT TTTT TTTT TTT T T TTTTT t T TTTTTTTT T T T T TTT TTTTTTTTTf T T T T T T T T TT TTT T T TT T ^ 



P The one whose best graces are unostentatious, 
t The one who can help make a heaven of home. 

y But give me no wife as a mere beast of burden, 
t And spare me the flower too tender for earth; 

t But give me the one who can e^rn her life's guerdon 
t By doing her duty and proving her worth. 



^ And give me the wife whom kind nature has dowered, 

t Enriched with affection and tenderness rare, 

I And one whose caresses, like rich blessings showered, 

I Can woo me to gladness when sobered by care. 



t THE NYMPH. ^ 

t ■ 3 

t As I was once roaming through forest and glen, ^ 

I Convinced I was wholl}^ alone; ;j 

t A voice in that solitude startled me when 3 

t I found that it was not my own. :J 

t Half frightened, I ventured to ask, ''Who is here?" ^ 

^ And faintly the far distant shout 3 

t Of a coy little Nymph with her answering, "Here!"" 3 

t Could leave me no longer in doubt. 3 

I Regaining my courage I said, "May I come?" ^ 

I But shyly her echoing taunt 3 

E Implied in its tone, as she answered me, "Come!'" 3 

t "I know I'm secure in mv haunt." ^ 



I "O why do you .shun me?" I ventured again; ^ 

i "You shun me!" she dauntless replied. :* 

t And then, half provoked, to her covev I ran, 3 

t Determined I'd not be defied. 3 

I . ■ 3 

i I 



^TTTTTTTrT T TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTrTTTTTTTTTrrTTTTTTTTTTTTTT 



103 



T^f^TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT TTTTTTTT 1 



L. 



I searched all the hills and the forest in vain, ^ 

And peered in the caves 'mong the rocks; 1 

But that she is somewhere in hiding is plain, ^ 

For yet when I call her she mocks, 3 



MOTHER GOOSE. 



i O what subtle charm is enshrined in a name, 3 

t And what does it mean to admire? ^ 

^ And what, after all, is the value of fame, ^ 

t And what is the use to aspire? h 

t In the uncertain past lived an uncertain dame, 3 

t Of an uncertain age and address; 3 

t. Of an uncertain mind, with" an uncertain claim 3 

t To a title we honor and bless. 3 

t A 

k While the ages have rolled in their progress away ^ 

I And new scenes are shown on the stage, ^ 

t This author is yet in the front of the play, 3 

p And vet do her melodies rage. i 

: ' ^ 1 

: The mothers yet cling to the rollicking verse ^ 

: This dame perpetrated long past; 3 

: Though all printed volumes contain nothing worse 3 

f- Her's only is destined to last. 3 

I The children all listen with open-mouthed awe :j 

I To her most nonsensical rhyme; 3 

^ And never a critic dilates on a flaw, ^ 

K Nor prates of poetical crime. ^ 

I This author, or authoress, as you prefer, " 

^ Is one for whom parents have use; -^ 



Li,Aia.i^Ai.i.AAJlAlAliJ.ii.l.i,i^i.i.i.Ai.AAii.i.i.lXi.i.llia.i.l.i.i.AJ.Alli.iaii.li.lAAAl 



^TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT-'TTTTTTrTTrTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTT-rrTTTrTTTrrTrT'^TTTTT^ 

t For, when it cures children of noise, why defer ^ 

I A dose of dear, old Mother Goose? ^ 



TRUTH. 



I wandered through the grove and glade and glen ^ 

When mind assumed its first unfolding powers, ^ 

Till far beyond the common haunts of men, ^ 

So rapt in contemplation, that the hours 3 

Passed s\\aftly by, and, ere I was aware, ^ 

I found a cave and met a hermit there. ^ 

vSaid I, "While thinking, I have lost my way, ^ 

Canst thou not point me to the way of Truth? ^ 

I fain would tread therein, so tell me pray, ^ 

That I may soon be gone." Said he, ''Forsooth!" : 

And smote my eyes and said, "Now gentle youth I 

Behold the former seekers after Truth'." h 



I saw the dreary dungeons, dank and dark. I 
Where men have writhed and worried, wept and wailed, ^ 

And longed for light, until the spectral spark 3 

Of reason flick ere 1 faint and feebly failed;— j 

All earnest seekers after Truth, who found ^ 

But nothingness beneath a felon's mound. 3 

I saw the Inquisition, worn and old, ^ 

Whose crumbling walls, iniquitous and dread. : 

If speaking, could a tale of blood unfold : 

So horrible that e'en it's tortured dead 3 

If living, scarce such terrors could conceive 4 

And I cannot describe, nor vou believe. 3 



'-^-*-*-^-^-*^^^Aii-tAllAAi tiiiiilii iiiiiniiiw|MUUittiititt_Mi 



Llliiiiii i l.i.L±jLXX^ 



f;TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTrTTTTTTTTTTT^ 

t I 

t I saw the many monuments of men,— B 

^ Grim sentinels above their crumbling bones; — j 

t Who wrought and shaped and built and died and then ] 

^ In dust found recompeijj^e for sighs and groans, 3 

t And ne'er returned to give a gleam of light ^ 

I To rift the settled pall of hopeless night. : 

h - 

p Then spake the hermit: "Court the virtues all : 

t And bear the burden of your acts and deeds; ^ 

t Be prompt in answering to duty's call 1 

f; And follow where enlightened reason leads; i 

t 'Tis then, within thy broad, unfolding mind, A 

I Thou wilt the Truth in ripened fullness find." q 

I J 

I MELODY. A 

t Orpheus played to ti-ees ^ 

t That nodded to his notes, 1 

t: He played upon the breeze ^ 

t And birds with tiny throats ^ 

I Well skilled to time and tone A 

t Flocked to his voice and lyre A 

^ To hear the strains alone i 

I That genius could inspire. :; 

I ~ ' ^ 

^ The charms of time and tune 1 

t Are now as sweet as when 3 

^ Beneath the Thracian moon 3 

^ They sounded through the glen! 1 

t As sad as when they crept A 

t Through every lonely place ^ 

I And stones insensate wept A 

t By quiet paths in Thrace. A 



'■^-^-^-^■^■i-^i.lmHiikl iitA.Ai.i,AiiiiiililtX^lllllliltlliiltHitit 4Aiiliit ; 



A^LXXlA^LXl.Ll.1. i^kJL. lUXl J 



f TTTTf 

E 



1 06 



THE MOUNTAIN STREAMf 



I Whirling dizzily, rippling busily, 3 

: Skipping, dancing all day long; :3 

► Gliding carefully, darting darefuUy, ^ 
I Singing its happy, mirthful song, :; 

i Brightly shimmering, faintly glimmerings 3 

► Touched and tinged b)^ sun and shade; 4 
I Glancing here and there, smiling every- 3 
I where, 3 
}: Frisking on through the glen and glade, ^ 
t I 
f Splashing cheerfully, dasliing fearfully ^ 
^ O'er the deep and dread abyss; ^ 
I Spraying merrily, rising airily, ^ 

► Greeting the rainbow with it's kiss. :j 



WHAT IS DEATH? 



Sliding easily, sweeping breezily, ^ 

Threading onward through the lea; ^ 

Verdure brightening, labor lightening,. ^ 

Rushing on to the waiting sea. :j 



1^ ^Tis but the final end of care, ^ 

t A respite to old age; 1 

I To sickness 'tis an answered prayer A 

I Receipting nature's wage; :j 

I A farewell to the old and sere, ^ 

►- ' -4 

t A welcome to the new;, ^ 

t :: 

t :5 

'^ ■ A 

t :3 



Lia.AXi-i.i^i.i_tlXXXi.lXa.^llilli.i.li..tlllllAiAlilniili llilliliilllllitll lilliii li 



rTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTtTt T T t T T T t T T T T T T T T T TTTTTTTTT T T T TT T 1 

The seal upon each sigh and tear 

And key to clearer view; 
The leaf resigning to the bud, 

The night's release to dawn; 
The level er of birth and blood 



t WORK AND SLEEP. 

t 



As well as brain and brawn. ^ 



Eyes close q 

In repose, ^ 

Under the shroud of night; ^ 

Da}^ break 3 

We awake, ^ 

Under a gleam of light; * 1 

Never shirk q 

Honest work, ^ 

For it brings repose; 3 

They rest 3 

Who work best, ^ 

Ere the daylight close. ^ 



I THE TRAMP'S SOLILOQUY. I 

i- A 

►• -1 

I I am a hungr}-, weather-beaten bo. 3 

t I've dinged the cinder path for forty years; :: 

t My fins no longer know the feel of dough; ^ 

I My living is most sadly in arrears. ^ 

I I've been the mouthpiece for audacious curs ^ 

^ While looking for a piece of soggy punk, H 

^ And oftentimes insulted by the slurs h 

t: I've heard while begging pennies to get drunk. ^ 



Lil.lAi^Xi.liAi.li.li.Ai^i-lll.i^lXAAli.iai^l-Li.iii.i-li^AiAi.lAl^ijLlllAi.lAi-4^i,i^i-l.li.llll.il^i^^ 



rTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT'TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrmTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrrTTTrTTTTfTTTTT^ 



loS 



And, losing all nn- former friendly pulls, 
I sought the solace of the path and brush. 

But now my lamps are burning dim and low; 

I can no longer clearly see the ties; 
My wheels are creaking wearil}- and slow, 

The laughing stock of all the favored guys. 

My species will no doubt become extinct. 

And in the bjg nuiseums A-et to be 
The push will laugh to see my mummy lin.ked 

To some bulldog that yet will cling to me. 

JOHN HOWARD PAYNE. 

His heart-torn pathos has enriched the earth 
And blessed the land that gave his genius birth; 

Mankind forgets his life, almost his name, 
But gives his verse alone undying fame. 



t With sky -piece for a pillow, I have kipped, :3 

t The moonlight softly swiping through the bush; q 

t And in my dreams my habitat I slipped ^ 

^ And once again I mingled with the push. ^ 

P And e'en awake. I. think of other days ^ 

t Of shipwrecked fowl and Java, milked and sweet; :^ 

t Of hunks of slaughter worth a prince's praise, 3 

^ And for dessert a pith that's fit to eat. 1 

t I 

^ I moped the citA^'s main stems once in form, ^ 

t With patent kicks and perfume on my hair; J 

I A shower stick to tantalize the storm, i 

I And decent seams to breast the thoroughfare. 3 

^ But then I got to slopping, and the bulls ^ 

t Kept pinching me until no longer flush; :3 



^lXi.^l^Lkj. i^LLi.jL±XJUl±XAi^i.LA.^.Li.i.i.lAX^.iA.i.lill 1 ki. L i. iliiil.ii.1 k Hi. kiiim^i.mii a iiLLik Id 



rTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTT-J 



OUR CRACKERJACK. 






^ You ought to see our crackerjack when mounted on his wheel, ^ 

t You bet he is a hummer and he'll never miss a meal; " ^ 
p His appetite is wonderful! — he never has enough; — 
► His muscles are like iron and his hide is awful tough. 

P He rides, upon an average, a hundred miles a day, — 

I A gliding on so easy like, without an hour's delay; ^ 

t And when it comes to sprinting,- -say, you ought to see his back! ^ 

K It's as humpy as a camel and— he is our crackerjack. 5 

X You see him at a racing meet, as clumsy as a mule; ^ 

t He doesn't look as fine as those who go to riding school; :J 

J: But when the word is given he will dig into his steed, ^ 

t: And before the tape is covered you can bet he's in the lead. ^ 

^ He's peaceable with everyone, as gentle as a lamb, ^ 

t But there's muscle l3^ing waiting and there's danger in his calm; j 

t He's but a sleeping tiger, you can wake him with a slap, :J 

^ And you'll find him rough and readv and quite handv in a scrap. ^ 

i ■ i 



LOVE SONG. :! 



My heart is light as air, 1 

For my love is very fair, 3 

There's music in her laughter and there's sadness in her sigh; ^ 

There is joy and bliss ^ 

In her virgin kiss, ^ 

And there's beauty in the beaming and the gleaming of her eye,- ^ 

In the beaming and the gleaming of her eye. ^ 

There's a charm in her grace, < 

And there's beautv in her face; ^ 



J^^Xi^i^JUi^LXAlki.X.XXXXXiMi^Lki.iLki.iLXAi.JUJ.ii.i.Li.Li.i.l.i^^i.l.l.l.LLILLi.i^i^kA^^i.l.i.i.kLALX±i^^ 



^TTTTT 



TTTTTT TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT\ TTTTTTTTTTT r TTTT TTTTTTTITTTI 



^ There's an unwritten poem in her jaunty little air; q 

I There's a symmetry sweet q 

I In her dainty feet, • ^ 

t And the fairies make a heaven in the clusters of her hair, — ^ 

^ A heaven in the clusters of her hair. 4 

^ -* 

^ So sweetly with mine ^ 

E Do her arms entwine, ^ 

t And her lips are honey-laden with a nectar like the dew; : 

I She's bethrothed to me ^ 

t And is bound to be 3 

^ A faithful and devoted little darling and a true, — 3 

: A devoted little darling and a true. 4 



TWO PICTURES. 



t " ^ 

I Had I the gift of eloquence of speech, ^ 

I Or were I but the Rafael of verse, 4 

t I'd paint for you a picture that would teach ^ 

I The art of blackness in a language terse. ^ 

p ^ ^ 

I I'd paint the glowing hopes that melt and fade ^ 

^ And vanish in the darkness of despair; — ^ 

t The hosts beset, beleagured and dismayed ^ 

f. Bv haunting visions of destroving care. ^ 

i ' ' ' ' ^ 

I I'd paint the mire and bog where lights delude; — ^ 

i The morass that engulfs whom it ensnares; 3 

I The frosts that blight, the bitter winds that brood : 

t A train of evils stealing unawares. ^ 

- ' ^ 

I I'd paint the denizens of field and l)rake, ^ 

^ Of mountain fastnesses and glade and glen ; — h 

► The sneaking jackal and the slimy snake, 3 

t And all the beasts of prey that haunt the den. ^ 

i ■ - ^ 



\.^^±±ii iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii^ 



rTYTTTTTr T TTT T T T T T T TTTTTTTTTTTTTT TTTTTTTTTTTTTTT t TTTTTTTTTTTTT ? T T T T T TTTTTTTTrTTTT 



E I'd paint whatever creeps and glides and crawls, ^ 

t And all that sears and severs, tears and rends, ^ 

i Or snares and sneaks and snarls and springs and sprav^^ls, ^ 

i Or robs and wrecks and spoils to gain its ends. ^ 

l i 

I I'd paint the inky cloud that blurs and clots, 1 

t And all that ever smirches, smears and stains, ^ 

I And brands and blisters, blears and blights and blots, : 

I And all that ever wounds and grieves and pains. ^ 



I'd paint the woes and miseries of men; — 

The death knell and the corpse and shroud and pall; 

The tomb and skull and skeleton, and then 
I'd paint a marge of blackness 'round it all. 

I'd have a chaos fit for imps of hell, 

Where they might romp and revel in delight; 

I'd give it all a stifling brimstone smell, 

And I would call my picture "Darkest Night." 

I'd paint another picture, with the dawn 
Just marshalling the glories of the day; — 

The picturesque Aurora, with its spawn 
Of many-colored, evanescent spra3^ 



t I'd paint the joy of all the good and just; 

► Above despair I'd paint the star of hope; 

^ Across the gulf I'd place the bridge of trust, 

f: And to the wreck I'd throw a gleaming rope. 



t I'd paint the liealth-liu# on the paling cheek. 

^ And smoothe the wrinkles on the brow of care; 

t I'd place a strong support beneath the weak, 

f And glory give to every silvered hair. 



Li^AAi.ijLjLAiJiXliJAlli^Ai.iJ.AAli.i^lAAi.AliU^i.iAJ^i.li.lli.AilAjLAi-i.XAi.lllAtlAiJa^i^i^>U^ia.i.Ai-^^ 



F-TTTTTTTTTTTTrTrTTrTTT-r»TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTr-rT-rTTTTT TT f TTTT TTTTT TTTTT* 



^ I'd paint the melody of childish laugh; — 3 

t The playful dimple on the cheek of mirth; q 

>- I'd giv^e the maimed a crutch and age a staff, ^ 

^ And mete to want the measure of its worth. ^ 

t ... . I 

^ And purit}' in saintly robes I'd paint, i 

t And virtue, seated on the world's great throne; ^ 

t And charity, secure from every taint, 3 

t I'd honor with a di^nitv her own. :; 



WHAT IS POETRY. 



t It is natural endowment, with the best to be acquired, 

t The essence of attaiiiment and the most to be admired; 

^ The cream of every language, pure, agreeable and sweet, 

t It is beauty, it is virtue, it is harmony complete. 

E It's the metrical expression of the soul attuned aright, 

t That dwells within a fairy -land of magical delight; 



t 



^ And I would paint the good and great and grand, ^ 

E And all that blesses, charms and soothes and awes, i 

I And lifts and lights and guides, or lends a hand ^ 

I Of helpfulness in ever}- worthy cause. ^ 

^ And I would paint the million fruits of love, ^ 

p: Of gratitude and faith and hope and trust;— 3 

p All benisons descended from above ^ 

^ To sanctify our animated dust. ^ 

k -< 

H And, like a benediction, I would paint 3 

t The bow of promise, many-hued and bright, i 

^ Above all, like the halo of a saint, ^ 

^ And I would call my picture "Brightest Light." ^ 



I 



.l^i^AiAAAAiAAAXi^l^XiAXJLXLlXi.AXt.lAAi.XX^.ia^ia.XXJL^iJ^JLXi.XlIAAXiXLiLi.lAltAAAlliiiXXi 



rfTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT-"! 

3 

TIT, ^ 

l^'he fruit of kindred graces that to ver}^ few belong, 5; 

Though aweing all in music and though soothing all in song. ^ 

It flashes in the lightning and it thunders in the storm, ^ 

It speaks from every painting and adorns the sculptured form; I 

It's the charm of all position, the grace of every pose, ^ 

The perfume and the color and the blossom of the rose. I 

It is literary consonance with inspiration rife, -^ 

A fountain ever gushing with the melody of life; ^ 

The symmetry and splendor and the symphony of speech, : 

And cold indeed must be the heart it's virtue cannot reach. - 



WHEELING. 



I If you never had a notion 

I Of the poetry of motion 

^ You should try at once the sweet, seductive wheel 

I For the fact there's no denying 

t It comes very near to flying, 

^ Such airy-like sensations one will feel. 

I There's an energetic feeling 

^ That is found alone in wheeling, 

r There's an incense from the meadow and the plain 

I Where the doves are gently cooing 

; And the cattle faintly mooing 

I And the birds are sweetly singing their refrain. 

^ In the prairies rife with flowers 

I And the fairy woodland bowers 

t There's a luxury of perfume rich and rare, 

I And you get enthusiastic : 

^ As your muscles grow elastic 

t With the vigor of the pure and bracing air. ■ 

t : 

i : 

f : 

t : 



rTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT-'TTTTTTTrTrrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTTTT-TrTTTrT-TrTTTTTTT^ 

114 \ 

So entrancing is the riding :3 

That you seem to be but gliding :^ 

As the gods of Grecian fable did of yore^ ^ 

And the mind with fancy haunted ^ 

Feels an ecstacy undaunted ^ 

And an energy it never felt before. ^ 

' ^ 

EXPERIENCE. \ 



^ I love to hold conununion with the hours, ^ 

t Which, like grim phantoms of the vanished \ 

t 3'ears, ^ 

I Bring back the perfume of forgotten flowers ^ 

t To compensate a retrospect of tears. ^ 

^ When I surrendered all my cherished toys, i 

t I found that life was real and not in vain; :3 

t And though it held for me a wealth of joys, ^ 

^ It also brought my share of grief and pain. ^ 

»- -4 

E Auspicious dawns oft ushered drear}- days, ^ 

^ And chosen paths oft proved seductive roads ^ 

I Which led me on through sweet enchanted ways,. i 

^ To end at last in dark and drear abodes. ^ 

t 



I ARABIAN NIGHTS. I 

t *1 

I 3 

t I read in the "Arabian Nights," ^ 

t Of demons, fairies, elves and sprites ^ 

I And foul, mi.sshapen, hideous wights,. ^ 

t Revolting, grim and grisly sights ^ 

X- Of scaU' monsters, measly mites, ^ 

f Of all that thrills, and yet affrights 3 

^ And keeps me long awake o'nights. ^ 

t ^ 



t :3 

^AAAAA im lli l XiXiXi i iiiiit llilll iilllAllillllll i ililtili il liiiiiili t lillillliilt illiilll^ 



y-rrTTTTTTTT T T TTTTTTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT T ' T ' T TT T T T t TTTTT T T T T T T TT T T TTTTTTTTTT T T T T TTf TTTTTT^ 

[ '" . ■■ \ 

t I sleep and dream of every fairy, :; 

i Genie, fay and creature airy, 3 

i Nymph and naiad, wild and wary, ^ 

t Watchful griffin plumed and hairy, 3 

I Gnome and goblin, frightful, very, 1 

I Spirit sad and spirit merry, ^ 

t All one mind can hold and carry. ^ 

I I 

E spectres through the walls are gliding, h 

t O'er the bed clothes coldly sliding, 4 

I In the darkened corners hiding ^ 

t ' With but momentary biding, :j 

I Each one leering and deriding, 3 

I Glaring, frowning, scowling, chiding, ^ 

t Onlv evil thus betiding. ^ 



Phantoms, dire, from all creation 
Make my room their destination, 



Nauseating and fantastic. 
Fiendish, frightful and elastic. 



t Keeping me in consternation t 

t With their dread concatenation ;^ 

t And their constant innovation :3 



Bringing naught of delectation, ^ 

Causing mental aberration. ^ 

Bogles and all apparitions, ^ 

Goblins vile in all conditions ^ 

Witch and wizard on their missions, n 

Fauns and Satyrs, all positions, ^ 

Giants, pygmies, impositions, 3 

Dragons, vampires, all editions, 1 

Bugbears, monsters, no omissions. ^ 



\ 1 iiiiiliXllH.i.XkXXLX iAXXAAiii 



FTTTTTTTITTTTT^TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT-TTTTTTTTTTTTTTT-^ 

\ 3 

\ ' ^^^ I 

I Vile, uncanny and bombastic, :; 

I All repulsive and gymnastic, 3 

I Odious, grisly, grim and plastic, : 

I Woeful, dire and non-scholastic, ] 

[ Dreadful as a scene monastic. 3 

>_ I see the roc through azure winging, : 

'^ And the dwarf his treasure bringing, 3 

Specters ever upward springing, ^ 

Horrid, slimy serpents stinging, ^ 
Hydras to their victims clinging, . I 

Phantom voices sweetly singing. I 

And with all my head is ringing. I 

It is quite a havoc making, i 

For my very soul is quaking ^ 

And I'm shuddering and shaking ^ 

As on mental vision breaking : 

All these terrors are awaking, ^ 

Real to me and unmistaking, :; 

Not a memory forsaking, :! 

As I lay and tumble there ^ 

'Mid these creatures of the air : 

On the verge of terror Cjuite : 

Through the horrors of the night. 



THE MAIDEN. 



I picture in fancy the face of a maiden :; 

Caressed by the soft, wooing zephyrs that creep - 

Through bowers with perfume so opium laden \ 

That all but the passions are given to sleep; 1 
Bewitching with charms that a kind nature dowers 
The child gentl}^ reared 'mid the sunshine and flowers. 



.AX^Ai.AJ.AAv« 



'TTTTTTTTTTTT-^ 



t The treasure of innocence gleams in her eye — 

►^ A trust to betray which were doubly a crime; 

i Her soul is as pure as the blue of the sky — 

p The tribute to love by a generous clime; 

h Her soul-speaking eyes in their wonderment seeming 

^ To vent all the fair}' surprises of dreaming. 

I 

■I There clings to her full and voluptuous lips 

t A nectar impelled from the fountain of love, 

^ As pure as the best that the humming bird sips 

I From blossoming vine on the trellis above — 

t The lips that for aye seem inviting a kissing 

^ That yet they remain all the sweeter for missing. 

I There beams in her features an unspoken plea 

t Which voices the angel that nestles within, 

t Imploring of you and demanding of me 

I Protection, at least, from the legions of sin 

t That ever through delicate features are etching 

t The cold, conscious guilt-lines that evil is sketching. 



A COON HUNT. 



F Did you ever go coon hunting when the timber was all bare, ^ 

f And the corn was ripe for husking and the frost was in the air? ^ 

r You can talk about your shooting and your fishing in the lake, ^ 

p But for jolly sport I'm thinking, plain coon hunting takes the cake. ^ 

t I 

^There's the moon a shining downward through the branches of the i, 

t trees, ^ 

K Forming weird and grotesque shadows, ever changing with the ^ 
^ breeze, 

t And the dead leaves crunch and rustle neath our heavy, restless tread, ^ 

^ And each stump is like a tombstone in a city of the dead. 3 






rTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT'TTTTTT-TTTT-TTTTTTT-TTTTT-T-T-TTT-T-T-TTTTTTT-TTTTTT-rTTTTT TTfTTTrfTTTT TTTT T 1 



^ark! the hunters stop and listen as they hear the distant bay 
t That re-echoes through the forest and in silence dies away; 
^Then another and another — aye the scent is getting hot! 
: And the waiting band of hunters are a happy, grinning lot. 



^ow the other hounds are joining and they all pick up the trail 
t And we know the gallant leader is a dog that cannot fail; 
^o we all set off to meet them at a swift and reckless pace, 
t While the music of their voices gives a relish to the chase. 

^ark! that aound is not mistaken— they have treed the coon at last 
t And we find them, tails a-wagging, looking upward hard and fast, 
^And away up in the tree-top, there between us and the moon, 
t With it's fiery eyes a-staring, is a fat and juicy coon. 

While the dogs keep up a-howling men are busy with the axe; 

t And there's some among the choppers who are troubled with 

X their backs 

When their wives need wood for washing — but that's all forgotte:i 

I now ; — 

t There! look out! the tree is falling! O, now isn't that a row! 

^here's the snarling, biting, growling, and the whining of the coon 
t Who is making sharp objections to a shuffling off so soon; 
^ay, you ought to hear him pleading like the wailing of a child; — 
t But coon-hunting is the sport to which all other sports are mild. 



WATER LILIES. 



On a crN^stal lake's shimmering wave, 

In the hush of the moonlight's seclusion, 

The water Nymphs gathered to lave, — 

Quite safe, as they thought, from intrusion. 



HilitlilliiH iillllX^ 



^'TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT'T T T T T T T TTTTTTT T T T T T TTTTTTTTyTT^ 

t ■ 119. I 

t They played 'niong the ferns on the brink, ^ 

; And hid in the shade of the willows; ] 

I They petted the fawns come to drink, ^ 

i And gossiped of friends' peccadillos. :! 

t So noisy their mirth soon became, :: 

t A Sprite was awakened from dreaming; ^ 

^ Who, seeking the parties to blame, ^ 

I At once set the water Nymphs screaming. :J 

t They scampered away in affright, :3 

I Because the bold Sprite was presuming, j 

^ But each Naiad left in her flight ^ 

I A lilv that burst into blooming. 4 



MY SWEETHEART. 



I fondly love this child of three, 
vSo precious to my life; 

For she is doubly dear to me — 
Her mamma is my wife. 



"How old are you, my pretty face?" i 

I asked a blue-eyed tot; 1 

She upward looked with charming grace ^ 

And answered : ' Tze f ordot. ' ' ^ 

"Whose girl are you?" I asked more free ^ 

Of this bewitching miss; ^ 

"Ize mamma's darling dirl," said she, 3 

And then I stole a kiss. ^ 

I kissed her for her mother's sake, ^ 

I ki.ssed her for her own; ^ 

Nor am 1 here ashamed to make : 

My dual passion known. - ^ 



11 11 1 li 1 i i. 1 i. 1. ll^A i.l.^X^iJk.Xi.l.X..i^kMl.i^i.XXX 



3 



^'^"'"'^'^''''■'''■'''^'^''^''^'^''"^"''^T^TTTTITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTTTTITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTT^ 

t I20 :; 



A WARNING. 

When Mrs. Jones looked all the almanac through 
For symptoms of wheezes and sneezes, 

She found, as indeed you or I may find too, 
She had forty-seven diseases. 

Alarmed at the prospect, she hustled to bed 

And sent for the family physician, 
Her tongue and her pulse, so the good doctor said, 

Proved her in alarming condition.* 

"But here is a bottle of medicine that 

Will make a new woman of you, 
The next time I call you will be strong and fat 

And rife with a vigor anew." 

She got out of bed when the stuff was all gone 

And felt as the "new women" feel. 
She left all the children at home with dear John 

And pedalled away on her wheel. 

The doctor again to the house came and found 

A welcome defying description, 
P'or John, with a pistol, said, "Doc, I'll be bound 

You'll write her another prescription; 

Just counteract all of the other stuff, please, 

And add that the wheel is an evil, 
And say that it's use with no woman agrees 

And then you may go to the devil.'" 

ACCOMPLISHMENT. 



He, who would some great end attain. 
Must thread, an isolated soul. 



k.AXAJlAll_ii^i_l.i.ilJ.i.li.lij 



rTTrTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTITTI 



■TTYTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT-1 



t The weary stretch of barren plain 

^ Ere he can reached his cherished goal, 

I For such is life, a dismal trail, 

I Where each must seek his way alone; 

t While thousands by the wayside fail, 

^ Hopes unfulfilled and ends unknown, 

t The course may be a desert waste, 

t Without a forest, stream or lake; 

t He will have many a mirage chased, 

^ Who can Tantalus' apple take. 



I WOULD I COULD. 



^ Then might I set to music all 

I My wishes and desires, 

^ And from the world of shade recall 

I The strains of silent lyres, 

►: I'd breathe a worthy psean to 

^ Each dearly honored name, 

^ And, with his strength revived anew, 

t Ride Pegasus to fame. 

t 



I I would that I could versify, 3 

t- Mellifluous as Poe! ^ 

I That I might sing until I die ^ 

I The sentiments that show^ ^ 

p The magic charm of Bobbie Burns, ^ 

I And Shakespeare's wond'rous scope, ^ 

^ With Byron's grand, inspiring turns ^ 

{: As finished as a Pope. ^ 



L.i-AAillAii.^iAlli.il4.1Ai^Ali^i.J.i.lXliXliai„l^j 



I'd wake the sleepy Muses till ^ 

They all encored my song, ^ 

And through the vault of heaven thrill ^ 

The nodding, starry throng; ^ 

I'd sing as did the warbler blind, ^ 

Whose lot it was to please ^ 

With melody, the wise and kind, ^ 

Applauding Hellenese, q 

I'd sound the note of harmony 1 

Uniting human hearts, 1 

And honor all the years to be ^ 

With my inspiring arts, i 

Enthroning in sublimity, ^ 

Beyond the critics' reach, ^ 

The angel of divinity 1 

Enshrined in human speech. ^ 



"SANDY. " 

Just at the foot of Prospect Hill, 
Where old Missouri sweeps amain. 

There is a spot sequestered, still. 

Called "Hell's Half Acre" — to be plain. 

But for the dogs that swarm the street, 
One could but think all beings sped; 

Here "Sand}'" dwells in bliss complete. 
The mighty monarch of a shed. 

He never has a debt to pav^ 

And owes no man a single cent, 

Nor is he troubled any way 

How he should meet his month] v rent. 



iilAiiill illilil liliilllilll lltl illliil iliiiiliiAilllliilillliilllliLl^ 



TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT7TTTTTTTTTTTTT7TTTTTT7TTTTTTTTTTTTTTT 



123 



THE DEATH ANGEL. 



t There is said to appear to the vision clear 

^ Of the righteous soul at death. 



kLm.iik^LiiiiiiLin mi. imm.'.i i-i.^ ii-^^.i.ii^ii^^^^^*-^ 



I He never goes to much expense 

I For laundry bills, nor toilet soap; 

I He lives alone in present tense 

p: Indulging no ambitious hope. 

I He has no friend to beg a loan, — i 

I; A yellow dog's his only chum, ;] 

H Requiring but a scrap or bone, i 

f; Or meat when "Sandy" gives him some. A 

»- ( 

►- -A 

[ He never relished overmuch ;] 

^ The luxuries of modern life; ^, 

I A comb and brush and bath and such ^ 

^ Are total strangers to his life. -1 

i 3 

t To gather bottles "Sandy" strives, 1 

i And rags and such to sell again; ^, 

I He thus upon the alley thrives,— ] 

^ An independent, self-made man. 3 

I . He finds all knowledge quite a bore, ^3 

\. And boys are devils in his eyes; ^ 

; He is not troubled much with lore, :) 

l And even less with family ties. ^ 

: Before him he a barrow wheels, ^ 

I A stick or hatchet in his hand; ^ 

I A flock of small boys at liis heels,— ^ 

i The maddest man in all the land, 3 



FTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTlTrTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTITTTTTTITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTrTTTT^ 

t : 

^ All ang"el of light in a halo bright ^ 

^ That points the way of the spirit's flight, 3 

t: And like a star in the waning light, ^ 

p ■ It fades ere the morning's breath. ^ 



When it conies and goes not a watcher knows. 

For a tear drop dims each eye; 
As the}^ hover there in the lamp-light's glare. 
And see but the cold and the dreamy stare, 
And miss the light of the presence fair 
That makes it easv to die. 



PAT'S OVERCOAT. 



Pat Murphy was a miner Ixjid, ^ 

A rugged mountaineer, ^ 

But yet he shivered with the cold i 

In winter long and drear. ^ 

:J 

Said he, "Bedad I have a mind ^ 

To get an overcoat." :; 

So, with his rifle went to find 1, 

A bear or mountain goat. ^ 

-< 

Ere long he met a hungry bear ^ 

That wasn't very fat; 3 

When Bruin said, "My meat is there," ^ 

"My overcoat," said Pat. ^ 

Although he shot, 'tis sad to note i 

His aim was incomplete, j 

But still he got his overcoat a 

And Bruin got his meat. ^ 



125 



TITLES. 



A Poet's Wooin.i; 


, 


To Minnehaha 


rS 


Robert Burns 


19 


The Future 


20 


Dress Reform 


21 


Shall Woman Propose? 


22 


Roostinj^- High 


23 


What is Crenius? 


24 


A Waning Art 


25 


A Photograph of Holmes 


26 


Chief War Eagle 


27 


Circus Day 


28 


Did You Ever Go A Wheeling? 


29 


The Interstate Fair 


3<'> 


My Corn Cob Pipe 


3i 


Aristocracy 


32 


The Rivals 


34 


Wapello 


35 


Optimist and Pessimist 


36 


The vStonn 


37 


The Farmer 


39 


Woman 


40 


The Prairie Dog 


42 


The Aurora 


42 


The Sprite's I^ove vSong 


43 
45 


All Alone 


My Grandfather's (iliost 


46 


Slander 


47 



126 

The Suicide 48 

Ambition 49 

My Painters 50 

The Magic vSteed 51 

Dawn 52 

Mutation 54 

An Autumn Sunset 



00 

Smoking My Life Away =56 

A Lamentation 57 

The Betrothal Ring 5^ 

The Blackmailer 59 

Betrayal 60 

Two Books 60 

lyanding of Columbus 61 

Fishing . h[ 

Council Oak 64 

To My Cigar 66 

The Blizzard 66 

Genius 67 

Solitude 6.S 

The Old Homestead 68 

The Old Mill Stream 69 

The One I Love 70 

A Ballad of Pie 71 



The Missouri 



/v") 



The Alabama Hog 76 

My Lost . 77 

The Centenary of Burns 77 

To Lowell 7'H 

The Prairie Flower 79 

Evening 79 

The Wife 80 

Come, Baby, Come 81 

1 am Married . . 82 



The Wife's Lainent 83 

The Wheel 83 

Woman, Queenlv Wonian <S4 

Wife Visiting- 87 

At vSiglit 87 

Washington 88 

Lora 89 

Nevvstead Abbey gn 

Man Eats Meat 91 

Ivove 92 

IJncohi 92 

Trinity 94 

Change 95 

Matrimony 96 

Love's Tale 96 



Alexander and Diogenes 



To Mv Wife 



97 



The Happy Man 98 

Reflection 9'*^ 



99 



WHien Love Grows Cold 100 

Greatness 100 

Mnsic loi 

Beauty loi 

O Give Me The Maiden loi 

Tiie Nymph 102 

Mother Goose 103 

Tnitli 104 

Melody 105 

The Mountain vStream 106 

What is Death 106 

Work and vSlee]) loy 

The Tramp's vSoliloqny 107 

John Howard Payne 108 

Our Crackerjack 109 



128 

i,o ve Song 109 

Two Pictures no 

What is Poetry 112 

Wheeling 113 

Experience 114 

Arabia'ii Nights 114 

The Maiden . 116 

A Coon Hunt 117 

Water Lilies • iiS 

My Sweetheart 119 

A Warning 120 

Accomplishment . 1 20 

I Would I Could 121 

Sandy . 122 

The Death Angel 123 

Pat's Overcoat 124 




LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

407 535 # 



